


And Mars Rose in the West

by keep_waking_up



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Intrigue, M/M, Mating, Minor Character Death, Moment of Mild Dub-Con, Ordered Mass Murder, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 22:14:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1363600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jared was eight years old, the King of Acklesland decided that his family, the noble Padaleckis, posed too much of a threat to royal authority to live.  As the only survivor of what becomes known as the Padalecki Massacre, Jared has been living in hiding as a peasant ever since.  But when the Prince’s Dragon Warriors come recruiting, he is tossed back into a world of intrigue, politics, and secrets, and forced to confront the very man who ordered his family’s murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 2013-2014 Dragon Big Bang over at LJ. Beta'd by deceptivemirror. Art by denig37.

When Jared was three, his brother fell off a horse and broke both his legs.  The bones were broken so badly that the family doctor could do little to nothing.  A wooden chair with wheels was made and lushly appointed with velvet, an almost-throne that allowed Joseph the freedom of motion his broken legs denied him.  Everyone said it was a miraculous innovation, something that could allow the young Lord Joseph to have something of the same life he had before.  Their mother wept with joy.  Still, Joseph spent most of his days in his room, staring out the window at the horses he used to ride.

When Jared was four, his father named him his successor to the title of Duke Padalecki after Joseph drowned himself in the bath.

When Jared was five, his mother was pronounced with child.  Everyone in the house doted on her; most days she barely left her bed.  The nursemaid’s little boy, Chad, told Jared that when the new child was born, he would be completely replaced.  Jared threw temper-tantrums for days afterwards.  When Mary was finally born, he looked on her with trepidation, only to fall in love with the red, screaming babe.  His mother would joke that there was no more devoted older brother in the whole kingdom of Acklesland, a misty look in her eyes.

When Jared was six, he began his schooling.  Languages and maths and sciences and literature and history—the list went on and on.  He was a playful child, bright but impatient, and his love for knowledge was often overwhelmed by his desire for action.  His tutors found him exasperating until his dear nursemaid, Margaret Murray, advised them against holding lessons in the dusty library.  They found him much more willing to learn with a fresh breeze tickling his nose and a more hands-on approach to keep him occupied.

When Jared was seven, his father began walking about the house with a frown.  His father told him that the King had declared war on the kingdom to the south and his taxation policies were driving the poor to desperation.  Every day the sun rose high in the sky, and every day his father listed a new grievance against King Alvard.  The King’s execution of his Captain of the Guard and confidant Jeffrey Dean Morgan only added a new level to the Duke’s vehemence.  For the King to accuse his closest friend of treason and send him to the executioners block was sheer madness, Jared’s father said. _Madness_.

The queen herself was rumored to no longer be quite sane.  The gossips whispered that something about the birth of her daughter had changed her, made her no longer quite right in the head.  Jared had heard his parents whispering that the King must have done something to her--harmed her or poisoned her.  “Is there nothing he won’t stoop to?” Jared had heard his mother ask once, right before his nursemaid caught him.

The only hope for the kingdom was young Prince Jensen—Duke Padalecki told Jared—but with a father like that, well…  The Duke trailed off, shaking his head, and said no more.

Jared ignored his father’s complaints and gathered all the material he could find on the prince, the first one in hundreds of years to bond with a dragon and join the legendary Dragon Riders.  Jared thought the prince and his dragon Camulus must be the most spectacular thing the Kingdoms of the West had ever seen.

When Jared was eight, royalty came to stay at the Padalecki Manor.

His nursemaid spent the better part of the morning getting him ready.  He was scrubbed until his skin turned pink, his hair was combed back, and his already-gangly limbs stuffed into stiff clothes that made him feel like he was being choked.  He was too excited to care.  He was finally going to meet Prince Jensen.

When his parents greeted the King, the prince, and their entourage of soldiers in the front hall, Jared could barely hold still from excitement.  There was the prince’s dragon Camulus, all golden scales and green eyes, just as everyone had said.  He barely fit through the door of the manor, even though he wasn’t anywhere near full size.  Jensen himself was more muted, hidden behind his dragon’s bright colors, but he was there as well. 

The prince was just twelve years old, which was four years old than Jared; Jared took great pride in knowing this.  He had yet to gain the height of his father and he was only just bigger than Jared.  Still, he was dignified and refined as he looked over the proceedings with a cool eye, which Jared could never manage.  When he looked at Jared, it was all Jared could do not to squeal in delight, even though Jensen’s eyes moved on almost immediately.

Throughout dinner, Jared tried to keep silent, even though he was squirming with the desire to talk to Jensen.  They were seated far apart and his parents had specifically said that Jared was not to babble like he was prone to when it was just them and Mary.  His mother had looked very stern when she had said so, so he’d known she was serious.  His father and mother were not excited to have the King there, and Jared knew that was because the King and his father did not get along.  Still, the King had made a kid like Jensen, so Jared could not see why he was so bad.

He was dismissed to his room before he could speak to Jensen.  He waited until Mrs. Murray left for the day, and then he snuck out of his room and down to the chambers he knew Jensen was staying in.  He had barely slid into Jensen’s room before Camulus had him pinned under one claw.  “Who are you?”  Jensen asked, and Camulus hissed out a hot, warning breath on Jared’s face.

Jared kept very still.  “I’m Jared,” he said, too excited to be really afraid, even with the prince’s dragon ( _and wasn’t that a story to tell Chad!  The dragon Camulus had touched him!_ ) hovering over him.  “My father is the Duke here.  I wanted to meet you, but my mother said I wasn’t allowed to talk to you unless you talked to me when we were at the dinner table.  So I thought I could talk to you now!”

“Camulus,” the prince said quietly and the dragon backed away with narrowed eyes.  The silence in the room made Jared think the dragon was talking to Jensen telepathically, and he wished he could hear what the dragon had to say.  “You can get up,” Jensen said helpfully, and Jared scrambled eagerly to his feet.

The prince was frowning at him—his eyes even seemed a little frantic—but Jared was too excited to care.  “Prince Jensen!  I’ve wanted to meet you for such a long time.  I can’t believe you’re actually here!”

Jensen shook his head, apparently baffled.  “Why would you want to meet me?”

Jared laughed at the ridiculous question.  “Because you’re Prince Jensen!  You’re the best, strongest boy in the whole kingdom, and when you become King, you’ll fix everything.  My father said so.  He said you and Camulus are going to make everything right.”

“And you believe him?”

“Of course!”  Jared smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.  “You’re the prince.  You’re _Jensen_.”  He said the name with a special relish, letting it float off the tip of his tongue.  “Why wouldn’t I believe it?  It’s true.”

Jensen just stared at him for a moment, until Camulus let out a huff of air.  The prince twisted his head around to look at his dragon, and they gazed at each other for a few long moments before he glanced back at Jared.  In the distance, a hunting horn blew.

Jensen’s head jerked up at the sound, then he looked determinedly at Jared.  “Jared, I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course!”  Jared smiled and nodded.

Glancing once more at Camulus, Jensen said, “I need you to take me to the most secret, hard-to-find hiding place in the manor.  Can you do that?”

There was nothing Jensen could have asked that could have made Jared happier.  “Of course!  I know just the place!  And it’s right here, in this room!”

“Really?”  Another horn blew and Jensen’s lower lip trembled.  “Can you get in it for me Jared?  I want to see it.”

“It’s right here.”  Jared ran over to the panel of wood he needed and pressed down until the panel popped out, showing the hiding space behind.  It was just big enough for him or Jensen.  “My older brother Joseph showed it to me when he got too big for it.  That was before—”  Jared didn’t like thinking about Joseph, so he just smiled harder at Jensen.  “See?  You’ll fit right in.  Do you need to hide from your nursemaid?  That’s what I use it for.”

“No, I don’t.”  Jensen glanced at the door.  There was some sort of clamor going on downstairs, but Jared couldn’t care less.  “Listen, Jared.  I need you to do _exactly_ what I say.  It’s very important that you obey me _exactly_.  Understand?”

“Yeah, of course.”  Jensen was going to give him a quest!  If he fulfilled the quest, maybe the prince would make him his knight and then he could meet a dragon of his own. 

Jensen walked over and grabbed Jared’s hand, pressing something into it.  He spoke hurriedly, his eyes fixed on Jared’s.  “I need you to get into this hiding place and stay in there, no matter what you hear, until this stone gets warm.  Camulus says it’ll get warm when you can leave, but you _can’t_ leave before that, okay?  No matter what.  Do you _promise_ to do what I say?”

It was a strange quest, but Jensen was the prince and it was not Jared’s place to question him.  He nodded solemnly as he clutched the stone in his palm.  “I will, Prince Jensen.”

“Okay.”  Jensen took a deep breath and squeezed Jared’s hand.  “Now, get in there, Jared.  I will shut it behind you.  You do what I said and you’ll be fine.”

Jared climbed into the hidey-hole, sitting with his legs against his chest so he could fit.  He hoped that he wouldn’t have to stay in there too long; he was getting too big for it.  He’d have to tell Mary about it soon, just like Joseph had told him.  He took in a deep breath as Jensen closed the door behind him.  It was so dark.

A few minutes later the screams started.  Loud and terrified, they echoed through the wood panel to where Jared sat.  He shook with fear.  He wanted to leave.  This was not fun anymore.  There were people screaming and crying and he didn’t know what was going on.  He did not want to stay anymore.  He wanted to go cry to his mother and have her hug him and pet his head.  He did not like the prince’s game.

As the noises carried on, Jared began to cry.  He didn’t dare wail and thrash like he usually did.  Instead, the tears streamed silently down his cheeks and he curled his hand around the stone the prince had given him.  It remained devastatingly cool. 

What felt like a long time later, the house was silent, like it had never been before.  There was always some noise, even when everyone was asleep.  There was always the soft rumble of his father’s snores, or the laughter of two of the serving maids as they whispered secrets in their bed.  There was no still silence like this.  Jared had not thought such a quiet existed.

His palm grew heated as the stone blazed hot in his hand.  Sucking in a breath, he kicked at the wooden panel, knocking it out of the way so he could scramble out of the niche as fast as possible.  With unsteady legs, he ran out of the room and down to the hall where he had last seen his mother.

He stopped.

There was so much blood.

The front door squealed open and a feminine gasp sounded.  Jared’s shoes were soaked through with blood.  He was shaking.  Arms wrapped around him and pulled him away from the scene, and he turned to bury his face in Mrs. Murray’s bosom.  She was crying soft, whimpering tears.  “We saw the King’s men ride off and we thought we’d check in to make sure everything was alright and my God—!”  She put her hands on both of Jared’s cheeks and kissed him fiercely on the forehead.  “I don’t know how you survived, but I am going to take care of you, Jared.  I promise I won’t let this happen to you.”

Jared curled his hand tighter around the stone in his palm, completely numb, and let her carry him away.


	2. Chapter One

_Ten years later:_

The cake shop at the market was Jared’s absolute favorite place in the world.  The market itself ranked up there pretty highly—all the stalls with pre-made food and trinkets, all the people cheery and kind—but the cake shop was his very favorite.  He was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he made his way towards the stand, coins jingling in the small purse attached to his belt.  He had been working hard with the horse-breeder, training the horses for their work in the country.  Most of his wages had gone to Mrs. Murray, but there had been enough left over for Jared to purchase several of his favorite honey cakes, come market day.

The owner’s apprentice, Adrienne, giggled as he skidded to a stop in front of her.  “How many of your usual today?” She asked, already beginning to wrap one of his cakes up in the bakery’s brown cloth.

He tossed the coins down on the table smugly.  “I have enough for _four_ today.  Mr. Lehne has been working me hard.”

“I can tell,” Adrienne said huskily, waggling her eyebrows as she looked pointedly at the burgeoning muscles on his arms.  Jared flushed at her blatant interest, which only made her giggle more.  “You’re almost as sweet as the cakes you eat,” she told him as she passed his purchases over.  Jared could not help noticing that the way she had leaned over the table displayed her bust for his viewing pleasure.  “Don’t eat all of those at once or you’ll get sick.”

“I won’t,” he promised her before taking off into the crowd.  Much as he wanted to dash off to a secluded spot and enjoy his cakes, he’d promised Chad he would watch him compete in the monthly stone-tossing contest.

The contest was held in the town square which, at the moment, was populated with many young men and women.  The older folk hung to the edges of the crowd and Jared, with his height, was relegated to their ranks.  He settled in next to Mrs. Mosley, the reigning town gossip, and prepared to engage in an hour or so of chatter with her.

“Oh Jared!”  She beamed up at him and he smiled back.  “Here to see your cousin, I suppose?  He’s got some followers, but I’m afraid the Cohen boy is the one most people are betting on.”

Jared laughed.  “Chad might not have a blacksmith’s arms, but he’s been practicing for weeks now.  He’s going to give Matt a challenge.”

“Well, he sure has the young Miss Bush in raptures!”  Sure enough, there was Sophia, nearly clinging to Chad’s side.  Jared grinned even wider at the sight.  It would be nice to hear about Chad’s triumph instead of listening to him whine about the girl.  Mrs. Mosley seemed of a similar mind.  “How soon do you think he’ll ask for her hand?”

“Knowing Chad?”  Jared shook his head as Chad appeared to stumble over his words while attempting to keep Sophia interested.  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up any time soon.”

Mrs. Mosley heaved out a weary sigh.  “Well, what does your aunt think about all this?  Surely she’ll be eager to get that little bit of chaos out of her house.”

After years of hearing people refer to Mrs. Murray as his aunt, Jared did not bat an eyelash.  “He may be Chad, but I think she’ll miss having a man in the house once he’s gone.”

“And what are you, a filly?” She joked.   Her eyes turned sly.  “Unless you have your eye on a young girl as well…”

“No, no!” He hurriedly denied, laughing.  “No, I just won’t be living with my aunt much longer.  Mr. Lehne has offered to let me stay in the guest room at his house if I come on full-time as his apprentice.”  He puffed out his chest at the statement; it was a matter of some pride.  Mr. Lehne had never taken on an apprentice before, despite many offers.

“You lucky boy!”  Mrs. Mosley patted his back a few times in congratulations.  “And here I was worried that you’d been recruited by the Warriors.”

A trace of shadow darkened Jared’s sunny day.  He turned to face Mrs. Mosley head on, a frown wrinkling his forehead.  “What do you mean, the Warriors?”

Mrs. Mosley looked at him with some astonishment.  “Why, haven’t you heard?  The Prince’s Dragon Warriors are only a day out.  They’re coming _here_ recruiting.  It’s all _anyone_ has been talking about.  Everyone’s worried about them taking our boys!”

The Prince’s Dragon Warriors were the most skilled fighters in the King’s battalion.  Led by Prince Jensen and his dragon, Camulus, the warriors and their dragons travelled across the land to wherever the fighting was worst, recruiting young men to join their ranks in all the towns they stopped in.

Jared tasted bile in the back of his throat.  He had not seen the prince since that awful night over a decade ago.  The “Padalecki Slaughter”, as it had come to be known, had been blamed on bloody-thirsty marauders.  The King himself had issued a statement mourning the family.  When Jared had heard of it, his blood had boiled with rage.  He remembered the King as he had sat at their dining table, smile turned mocking in Jared’s memory.  He had ordered the massacre of an entire household and then had the gall to pretend to mourn them.  As Jared recalled it, his hands clenched into fists and his teeth gritted together.

Mrs. Murray had taken Jared in after the massacre and the three of them had moved to a town far away, where no one would know what Jared of Padalecki looked like.  The town had accepted Jared as Mrs. Murray’s orphaned nephew, and it had not taken Jared long to adjust to the life of everyday people.

He had no desire to see Jensen, even if the man had saved him.  His memories of Jensen were tied up with childhood naiveté and bloodshed.  He was content with his current life for the most part.  He wanted nothing to do with the court, the nobility, and especially Jensen.  The memory of him was too wrapped up in Jared’s own nightmares.

“Jared?”  Mrs. Mosley was looking up at him in concern.  While he had been absorbed in his memories, the tournament had become fiercer, both Chad and Matt lifting and tossing the heavy stones with loud, thematic groans.  He shook his head to clear his mind.  Mrs. Mosley pressed closer.  “Are you alright, child?  You’ve gone pale.”

He smiled at her weakly.  “I suppose I’m rather fatigued.  Long day’s work today.  I should probably head home.”  Chad would have Sophia to celebrate with once he was done.  Jared needed to collect himself.  “Have a good day, Mrs. Mosley.”

She frowned, but let him go without protest.  “To you as well, Jared.  Send your aunt my regards.”

He acknowledged her words with a wave of his hand before stealing away.  It was a walk of less than a mile back to the Murrays’ house, and he watched the puffs of dust coming from his old, holey shoes with every step.

All the young men of the village would be called in for potential recruitment by the Warriors.  He would not be able to avoid that.  Even if the prince attended, which he probably would not, there was no way he would recognize Jared and there was little chance that Jared would be chosen either.  He was not as strong or agile as many of the other boys in the village; everyone knew that dragon eggs hatched for warriors, not stable lads.  Jared took a deep breath, trying to talk himself out of his rising panic.  He would just have to stay strong and pretend the whole experience was not dredging up awful memories of his past.

That night at dinner with Mrs. Murray and Chad, Jared did not bring up the Warriors.  Panic roared in the back of his mind as he listened to Chad crowing about his triumph in the tournament and Mrs. Murray indulgently inquiring about Sophia.  There was no reason to disrupt their evening for something that would likely not affect them, he told himself.

He smiled and ate.

                                                                                                                  

The next morning, it was clear the Warriors had arrived.

Mrs. Murray gasped as she stepped outside.  “Jared! Chad!” She called and Jared raced out to her side.  It only took one glance at the horizon to identify what had shocked her so.

Dragons whirled in the sky.

Jared gaped at all the different colors, jewel-tones of every shade glinting in the air as the sun bounced off the dragons’ scales.  They curved around each other, looping and spiraling as they flew, so completely free.

“The Warriors,” she said, and looked at him with wide eyes.  “You don’t think…”

He shook his head.  “Mrs. Mosley told me yesterday.  Apparently, it’s been big news for days.”

Her gaze turned accusatory.  “You didn’t say.”

“I didn’t want to alarm you.”  He ran a hand through his hair.  “We shouldn’t have any reason to worry.”

Mrs. Murray’s frown deepened.  “Perhaps not in the way _you’re_ thinking about.  But what about my son, Jared?  He is exactly the type of boy normally chosen.  I could lose my son!”

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he squeezed her close to him reassuringly.  “I think Chad has too much of an attitude for any of the dragons to want to be eternally bound to him.”

Sniffling, Mrs. Murray couldn’t hide a smile.  “I suppose that much is true.”  She turned her face up to Jared.  “It’s not just him I’m worried about, you know.”

Jared scoffed.  “I’m not their type.  Besides, people of my… bloodline are rarely chosen.”  Nobility and dragons rarely went along with each other.  Prince Jensen was one of the few exceptions to the rule; he had bonded with the King Dragon.  “You’ll see.  We’ll be home tonight, same as always.”

Chad burst into the yard.  “Dragon Warriors.  _Damn!_ ”  He turned to them and narrowed his eyes.  “If it wasn’t for Sophia, I’d _totally_ be into making a run for it, but there is _nothing_ you can say to convince me now.”

Margaret moved out from under Jared’s arm to embrace her son.  “We’re not running.  We simply have to pray that both of you come home tonight, safe and sound.”  Her lower lip was trembling, but her voice was firm.

Chad puffed out his chest proudly.  “ _No_ dragon is going to tear me away from Sophia,” he proclaimed with confidence.  Then he looked over at Jared and winked.  “And no dragon is going to want his scrawny ass either, so…”

“Hey!” Jared objected, but did so with a grin.  He punched Chad’s arm lightly as he moved towards the house.  “We should get ready.  They’ll be calling for us soon.”

It was good protocol to ready a pack of belongings before going to the Warriors’ recruitment.  Not coming packed would be a sign of arrogance.  Rumor said that the Warriors would recruit that boy as a servant if he did not get picked by a dragon, just to knock him down a peg.

The Dragon Warriors provided clothes, shelter, and weapons, which left Jared to pack only what was personally important to him.  Even though he was confident he would return, his fingers trembled as he packed the two material objects most important to him; the bunny plush-toy that he had slept with since he was an infant, and his mother’s pendant necklace, which Margaret had retrieved for him before they had fled.  He kissed the pendent once before he wrapped both objects in one of his better shirts.

Already sitting in the bottom of his knapsack was what looked like a plain old stone.

The meeting horn blew around noon, summoning them to the center of town.  Mrs. Murray was wiping at her eyes as they set off; she had declined to go with them and observe the spectacle.  She hugged Chad first, then Jared.  She whispered in Jared’s ear, “breathe,” before letting him go with a sigh.  He smiled at her one last time before running to catch up with Chad.

The town’s center square was bustling with energy.  The townsfolk clung to the sides while the young men of the village stood in a straight line in the center.  A head taller than most of the people in the crowd, Jared had a clear view of the assembled Warriors; only five of them had come.  Two of them seemed to be in charge, and the other three seemed tasked with taking care of the dragon eggs there for the selection process.  None of the Warriors’ dragons were in sight.  The square was so cramped that Jared did not think it could fit one dragon, let alone five.

“Well, here goes,” Chad muttered, before making his way to the line with the rest of the young men.  Jared followed, and they situated themselves next to Chad’s rival from the previous day, Matt Cohen.  Matt’s face was so white that Jared actually felt better about being so afraid.  “It’s the waiting that’s going to kill me,” Chad said in a low voice.

“I will second that,” Jared murmured back.  He kept his eyes on the two Warriors in charge, only jerking his gaze away when the Warrior with longer hair met his gaze.  He did not want to seem impertinent by staring.  He did not want to draw attention to himself at all.  It was safer to stare at the dragon eggs.

From what Jared could see, there were five of them.  He had always imagined dragon eggs as gem-like stones, not these plain, craggy rocks.  If he had seen such a rock in the country, he would not have thought anything of it.  Through that rugged shell, the infant dragon would be able to register the touch of their intended and hatch.  It was an incredible prospect.  Jared almost hoped an egg would bond to one of the village boys, just so he could witness a hatching.

Almost.

A hush fell over the townsfolk as the two Dragon Warriors stepped forward and began pacing up and down the line of men.  They seemed to be taking count, ensuring all the young men of the village had shown up.  Jared sucked in a quick breath when they nodded to each other, and the eggs were brought to sit in a line parallel to him on the table provided.

The long-haired Warrior took up a military stance at one end of the table, his partner at the other.  The long-haired one cleared his throat and delivered as if by rote: “Alright now.  You’re going to come forward one by one to touch these eggs.  If nothing happens, go back to standing in line.  Don’t leave.  If one of them hatches, you stay with your hatchling up here.  Don’t give us trouble and we won’t make trouble for you.”  With those last threatening words, he looked towards the end of the line furthest from Jared.  “You.  First.”

One by one, pale young men stumbled forward and brushed their hands quickly over each egg, before hurrying back to their place in line.  None of the eggs had hatched by the time Chad’s turn came.

Chad set his shoulders and strode forward, puffs of dirt coming up from the ground as he stomped his boot-clad feet.  The Warriors exchanged an amused look as he clenched his jaw and smacked his hand down on the first egg.  He waited a moment, as if to prove he was not scared, before moving onto the next egg.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

He looked almost shocked as nothing happened when he removed his hand from the last egg.  He glanced at the two Warriors, as if he thought they were going to stop him, before scurrying back to Jared’s side.

“Good luck, champ,” Chad murmured, slapping Jared’s back as he stepped forward.  Swallowing, Jared took even, steady steps as he walked up to the eggs.  He did not bother doing as Chad had done; he merely put his hand out and let it graze the eggs.  Everyone knew that, no matter how soft the touch, the dragon would be able to sense its bonded.

He reached the end of the line.  His hand fell off of the last egg.  None of them had hatched.

He sucked in a relieved breath.  A new bounce in his step, he began heading back to the line, only to be brought up short by a hand grabbing his arm.  The long-haired Warrior was looking at him with a speculative gaze.  “What’s your name, kid?”

Jared shook his head, then realized what he was doing and stopped.  For a moment, he contemplated lying, but the whole village was there watching; someone would call him on it.  He took in a deep breath before replying, “Jared Murray, sir.”

The Warrior holding him exchanged a look with his partner.  “And where are you apprenticed, Jared Murray?”

Again, there was no point in lying.  “I help with the training and upkeep of horses, sir.”  He wondered if they recognized him.  His heart stopped at the thought and his eyes darted between the men frantically.  Maybe their dragons gave them special powers and they could see all the things he was hiding.  Maybe—

The Warrior released his arm to circle him.  Where before he had spoken in loud, brusque tones, now he spoke in a soft rumble Jared thought was probably meant only for his companion.  “He’s a good-looking lad.  Young, and he’d do wonders with Impalia.”

The other Warrior pursed his lips in contemplation.  “He might get mad.  Remember the last time you pulled something like this?”

Defiantly, the long-haired Warrior huffed.  “Okay, so I didn’t have the best timing on that one.  But he can’t really get committed to someone until that damn egg hatches.  He needs to work off the stress _somewhere_ , Steve.”

The other Warrior—Steve—held up his hands.  “It’s your decision, Chris.  But if _he_ doesn’t like it, I’m not backing you.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jared had the wits to wonder about who exactly this _he_ was.  But most of his thoughts were focused on one thing: escape.

The long-haired Warrior—Chris, apparently—looked Jared over one last time, then nodded shortly.  “He’ll like it.  Kid’s perfect.”  He clapped Jared on the back and grinned.  “Well, kid, looks like you’ll be joining us.”  He was speaking loudly enough for the crowd to hear again. There were some sharp intakes of breath from the sidelines.  “Go wait with my three friends back there.”  He jerked his head towards the Warriors that had handled the eggs.  The three of them were watching Jared with undisguised glee.  “Just stand there and wait until this is all over.  Then we’ll travel back to camp and Steve and I will brief you on your duties.”

Jared nodded numbly.  “Yes sir,” he whispered and felt his feet moving against his will to stand by the Warriors.  The crowd’s faces were blurry as he tried to blink the tears out of his eyes.  Ten years of running, hiding, and lying, and he was caught because some Warrior liked the look of his face.  It wasn’t even a particularly good face, in Jared’s opinion, though it had been a while since he had last seen himself in a mirror.  Ten years, in fact.  Ten _fucking_ years and he was betrayed by his own face.

The Warriors clearly did not know who he was, but it would not be long before he ran into the prince and his dragon.  Even if Jensen did not recognize him, Camulus probably would.  For a few weeks, he would be alive and restored to his life’s former glory, and then the King would send his executioners to cut Jared down.

He did not want to die.

No eggs hatched in his village, but two more boys were chosen to accompany the Warriors.  Jared barely knew one of them.  The other was Chad’s rival, the blacksmith’s son, Matt Cohen.  The other boy started crying at his side and Jared could not think to comfort him.  He couldn’t think beyond his own terror.

The dismissal of the boys still in line seemed to be a signal for general chaos.  The Warriors began to pack up and Jared simply watched them, unsure of what to do.  Family of the other chosen boys rushed them and Jared was jostled to the side, where he nearly ran into Chad.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Chad muttered.  Jared nodded along, even though he was too numb to feel much of anything.  “I can’t let you go alone.  I’ll volunteer, go with you—”

“No, no”  Jared cut him off, shaking his head.  “No, you need to stay here with your mother.  She’ll need you now more than ever.  And Sophia—you have to stay for Sophia.  Didn’t you say you wouldn’t leave her?”

“Fuck,” Chad growled and threw his arms around Jared in a tight, squeezing hug.  “You take care of yourself, you fucker.  If I can’t go with you, you have to _promise_ you won’t do anything stupid and that you’ll come back as soon as you can.”

Shoving Chad off, Jared tried a shaky smile.  “I think you’re mixing things up.  You’re the one that gets in trouble, not me.”  Chad’s chin was trembling; Jared thought he might cry.  “Hopefully they’ll get tired of me and I’ll be able to leave soon.  I swear, the _instant_ they let me go, I’ll come back.  You just take care of everything until I can.”

Chad gave a short nod.  “I will.  Take care, alright?”

“You too.”  Jared watched Chad disappear into the crowd for one moment, and then he was dragged back when a hand grabbed his arm and gave it a fierce yank.

One of the lower status Warriors was frowning at Jared.  “Time to head out.  Start walking.  Chris and Steve will tell you your duties.”

Jared fell in line behind Matt, the three egg carriers behind him.  Chris said, “we’re camped a mile or so out.  We have horses waiting at the edge of the village.  I hope you all can ride.”  He eyed Jared and smirked.  Jared barely heard the words he muttered under his breath.  “Better be able to ride more than horses too.”

Well, _that_ was not ominous in the least.


	3. Chapter Two

Dragons.  There were dragons.

All of his fear had fallen away the instant they got close enough to the Warriors’ camp to properly see the dragons.  He stared up in awe at the dancing, twirling bodies. There had to be at least fifty of them, if not more.  All different colors, all shining and shimmering… Jared suddenly wished one of the eggs _had_ hatched for him.  He could not imagine anything greater than being a companion to one of those powerful creatures.

“Pretty incredible, right?”  Jared startled as Steve spoke to him, voice low enough not to carry to the other boys.  The Warrior turned a kind smile his way.  “Everyone gets that look on their face the first time they see ‘em.  Wait ‘til you see one up close.”

Jared already _had_ seen one up close, years ago, but he just smiled tightly.  “Yessir.”

The smile dropped from Steve’s face and he looked rather glum.  “I am sorry, Jared, that you were picked.  I know how hard it is to leave your family.  But the Warriors and those that travel with us are a family of a sort as well.  We will take care of you.”

There was nothing to say to that.  Jared ducked his head, looking down at the bridle of the tan mare he was on.  “Thank you, sir.”

He thought he heard Steve sigh once more, before the other man spurred his horse forward to catch up with his partner. 

The camp itself was massive.  The space between each tent was large enough for the dragons to settle in for the night.  The tents were quite small in comparison.  Each one was decked out in the prince’s colors, gold and green, to match his dragon.  Overall, it was much cleaner and neater than Jared would have expected an army camp to look like.  But, he supposed, they had only been there for a day or so.  Doubtless it would not remain so pristine over a longer period of settlement.

Some of the Warriors stopped and stared when Jared and his fellow recruits passed.  A few whistled or cat-called, not in a vulgar way, it seemed, just teasing.  Still, Jared kept his head down and avoided eye-contact.  Regardless of what Steve said, this was not going to become his family.  He had already been torn away from two; he did not need a third.

They arrived in the center of camp and were urged to dismount.  Jared did so far more gracefully than the other two; likely, they had never even been on a horse before.  He caught a glimpse of a larger tent that he assumed must be the prince’s before he was herded into to another tent on the side.

Inside, only Chris, Steve, and the other recruits remained, the dragon egg sitters having gone off to lay their charges to rest.  Chris crossed his arms over his chest and grinned at them, showing all his teeth.  “I’m Christian Kane, and I’m second-in-command of the Prince’s Dragon Warriors.  This here is Steve Carlson, and he’s the Field Marshal.  So, other than the prince, you answer to us first.  Got it?”

Jared nodded in sync with the others.  The boy he did not know still would not stop crying.

Chris raised a derisive eyebrow as he scanned their faces and sighed.  “Alright.  Names and things you’re good at doing.  Then we’ll assign you duties and send you on your way.”

Matt caught Jared’s eye for a brief moment before speaking.  “I’m Matt Cohen.  My father is a blacksmith and I work… worked in his shop.”

A broad grin split across Chris’s face.  “Excellent!  We’ll send you to work with the Weapons Master then.  His name is Ty Olsson.  Just head out and ask anyone for directions.  They’ll point you the right way.”

Matt ducked out of the tent as quickly as possible, only pausing to shoot Jared one more glance of solidarity before leaving.  Jared stared after him, missing out on what the crying kid said, and was startled when he left too.

Slowly, he turned back to face the two men in front of him.  They were looking at each other, and seemed to be communicating with a series of eyebrow wriggles and twitches of the mouth.  Finally, Steve sighed and moved toward the corner of the tent, pulling out two wooden cups from the trunk there and pouring some liquid from his flask into them.  Chris pulled up what seemed to be an unfolding chair and sat down before taking a cup from his friend’s extended hand. 

“So.  Jared, right?”  Chris began, leaning forward with a leer.  “Apprentice to the Horse Master.”

Tentatively an apprentice, really, but Jared didn’t dare say that.  “Yes, sir,” he murmured, and he kept his head down, sneaking glances through the fringe of his hair.

“Jared,” Steve said gently, and touched cool fingers to his chin.  “You can look at us.  We aren’t going to hurt you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jared replied, as was required, and raised his head incrementally.  Steve smiled at him at him kindly, but Jared could not force his lips to move.

Chris leaned backwards in his chair with a heavy sigh.  When he spoke once more, the previously jovial tone was distinctly missing from his voice.  “Look, Jared, I’m gonna cut to the chase with this, because I don’t want to waste your time.  A certain high-ranking Warrior in this camp has been going without a manservant for far too long.  He’s too busy to be able to tend to his horses, weapons, tent, etc.  He doesn’t even take care of himself that well.”  Chris paused to smile with some of his former humor at Jared.  “You seem like a capable lad.  I think you’d be good for him.”

On the surface, it all sounded well and good, but Jared was frozen with fear.  Perhaps in castles or country estates that was all a manservant did, but it was well known that the boys that served Lords during army campaigns were meant to do more than polish their armor.

“Who is this Warrior, sir?” Jared asked softly, so that they could not hear his voice trembling.  He hid his shaking hands behind his back.  The King would probably laugh if he could see Jared now.  Once upon a time, the idea of Jared, the Padalecki heir, being bedwarmer to anyone would have been a ridiculous concept.  Now, it was the reality of his life.  Every time he thought he had crawled out of the ditch he had been thrown in, the world decided to knock him right back down.  Jared wondered whether his life was just a big joke to the gods.

Exchanging one more look between them, Steve was the one who spoke this time.  “The prince, Jared.”  At Jared’s suddenly wide eyes, he chuckled.  “He’s notorious for refusing to allow anyone to help him.  He thinks that he needs to prove to all of us he can pull his own weight.”  Steve paused and shook his head with a fond sort of sadness.  “But we know that… and he’s been lonely a long time, Jared.  He can’t take a lover, because he’s destined to be with whoever the Queen Egg hatches for, and it hasn’t hatched yet.”

Jared had almost forgotten that part.  The King Dragon would mate with the Queen Dragon only, and their bonded would be drawn to be with each other as well.  He felt a pang of sadness for Jensen, almost against his will.  The Queen Egg was still unhatched, and the man was twenty-two.  No doubt he longed for a companion, a mate.  He, like Jared, was alone in the midst of his most virile age.  Then that feeling soured, as he remembered exactly who would be forced to take that virility. 

Both Chris and Steve were looking at him with concern.  Swallowing, he nodded, realizing he had been silent for far too long.  “And you think that he will accept me as his manservant, sir?”

“Well, if he doesn’t, then we’ll just have to send you back home, kid,” Chris said nonchalantly, and Jared was quickly filled with hope, only to have that hope abruptly crushed when Chris continued, “but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.  I know his type.  I think you’ll get along fine.”

Jared ducked his head so that the men could not see the disappointment on his face.  “Yes sir.”  He hesitated, then glanced upwards nervously.  “What should I…?”

Steve came up and clapped him on the shoulder.  “His tent is right in the center of camp.  You won’t miss it.  Just head in and wait for him to get back from meeting with his advisers. Tell him who you are and he’ll tell you what he wants you to do.”

Jared said, “yes, sir,” one more time before ducking out of the tent.  He stared at the men bustling about, and for a second, he thought about making a run for it.  He could steal one of the horses and ride for a town far, far away, and maybe come back for Chad and Mrs. Murray as soon as the danger had passed.

One of the Warriors bumped into him, sending him stumbling back.  The man muttered a quick apology before moving on, but Jared had already been shaken from his dreams of escape.  No, if he ran, the Warriors would put a warrant out for him, and his height made him too easily identifiable.  The penalty for deserting was slavery for life.  Jared would rather be Jensen’s bedwarmer.  Jared would rather _die_ than become one of the King’s slaves.

He paused before the prince’s tent.  It _was_ directly in the center of things, the circular space around it enough to fit three sleeping dragons instead of just the one.  Jared wondered if that was what the prince required or the men’s way of giving him respect.  Either way, no one objected when he walked up to the tent (just the same as all the others in terms of decorating, he noted, only slightly larger) and slipped inside.

Inside, it was clearer that this was the tent of a prince.  There was the fine armor, the rich blankets, and the goose-down pillows.  Everything had been put carefully in its place, no doubt, but Jared already saw things that had gone uncleaned for too long or had been tended to by an inexperienced hand.  At least, he thought, the prince had tried to take care of his own things instead of lobbing the duty off on some already-burdened servant.

He did not know where to get cleaning supplies from, though, and although he suspected there might be some among the prince’s things, he hardly wanted to be found nosing around in his drawers.  Not a good first—well, second—impression. 

Sitting still would only heighten his nerves.  Instead, he moved about, tidying what he could and taking note in his head of what would have to be done.  Mrs. Murray had made him clean his own room, as she had Chad, so at least he was experienced in that much.  He would not only be able to help with the care of the horses, but the training of them as well.  He had no idea how to deal with the prince’s weapons, but surely that would come with time and training.

He had just finished straightening the pillows on the bed for the fifth time when he heard footsteps approaching.  Jerking back, he let himself fall into a kneeling position on the ground, head ducked, just as the tent flap was swept open.

Brown leather boots came to a halt right at the edge of Jared’s gaze, the flap falling shut behind them.  “What are you doing in here?” A deep voice asked sharply.  “And what are you—for God’s sake, get up!”

Jared was not sure he had the strength standing would require.  His knees were weak, and not in a romantic way.  For that matter, he was not sure he would ever have the strength of will to voluntarily look at the prince again.  He remained still as he spoke.  “I’m to be your manservant, Your Highness.”

“My—?”  There was a moment in which Jared imagined the prince gaping in surprise.  Of course, he could only call to mind the young prince he had seen, and the prince was much older now; Jared could see that much from the size of his boots.  “Oh, for fucking—did Chris get you?”  The prince asked, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Yes, sire,” Jared replied, and was surprised when the boots moved forward with sudden rapidity, and a hand grabbed his upper arm and yanked him to his feet.  He stumbled back, and in his shock, was unable to keep his eyes from flickering up to the prince’s face.

Jensen _had_ grown.  All the pretty features Jared remember seeing on a boy were now hardened and made sensual by manhood.  His lips were still plump and curved, but he held them in a tense frown that spoke of authority.  Green eyes remained large and surrounded by thick lashes, but the prince had them narrowed in intensity.  Spidery lines stretched out from them, and Jared wondered if they were from laughter or from squinting.  Somehow, Jared doubted it was the former.

It was a very pleasing face indeed, which was somewhat disturbing for a variety of reasons.  Jared pushed the thought to the back of his mind and flushed when Jensen’s eyes made a similar trip over his own face.  However, Jensen did not seem equally pleased; instead, his frown grew stronger.  “What is your name?”

Jared thought for a moment about lying, but he had already given Chris and Steve his true first name.  They would be suspicious if he changed it now.  “Jared, sire.”

At that, Jared thought he saw a flicker of sadness pass over Jensen’s face.  His heart throbbed in his chest as he realized that Jensen might be thinking about _him_.  It was even more difficult for Jared not to react to the prince’s next words.  “Jared.  I knew another Jared once.  He looked rather like you.”

Perhaps it was the recollection of his childhood self that made his tongue disobedient and foolish, but Jared found himself saying, “I hope that is a compliment, sire.”

Jensen did look a little bit shocked at that, but his face relaxed into a melancholy smile.  “It is.”  Releasing Jared’s arm, he took a step back and scanned over him clinically.  “Well, Jared,” he said, “I had not intended to hire a manservant.  It seems my friends have taken things into their own hands.”

“It seems so, sire,” Jared agreed, relaxing a bit now that Jensen had not immediately ordered him out.  “Does that mean you’re dismissing me?”

Jensen stilled momentarily and raised his eyes to meet Jared’s.  Jared would have lowered his, but Jensen’s hand came up to hold his chin in place.  “Do you want me to, Jared?” He asked softly.  “I understand that you were taken from your home.  If you want to return, I will allow you to.  It is your choice.”

It was exactly what Jared had wanted since the Warriors had selected him.  He had been praying Jensen would reject him and that he would be able to return home to the Murrays.  He had promised Chad he would take the first opportunity to be released; yet, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave Jensen now that he’d found him again.

For a moment, he struggled against his own impulses.  He had to think and be sensible.  He had dreaded every moment leading up to this meeting; he had sworn that he never wanted to see Jensen again.  He had meant it too.  To now turn his back on all that would be foolish.

Even with all that in mind, he could not bring himself to leave.

Softly, Jared said, “No, sire.  I think I would like to remain with you.  If it pleases you.”

Jensen smiled, and it might have been the most beautiful thing Jared had ever seen.  All the girls in the village were nothing compared to this _man_.  “It does please me,” he responded quietly, and the hand on Jared’s chin moved to cup his cheek briefly before falling back to Jensen’s side.  “We have much to discuss, Jared,” he proclaimed, and dusted off his pants, “but that shall have to wait.  I have a dinner with my captains to attend, and you must dine with the rest.  Just follow the masses of people, and enjoy your meal.  We will talk about your duties and my expectations on a full stomach.”

“Yes, sire,” Jared murmured, and watched as the sun caught Jensen’s hair as he exited the tent.  He was left alone in the aftermath, wondering what, exactly, he had done.

It appeared that the Warriors did not think themselves above dining with those that tended to them.  Men of every rank sat about the fires, drinking ale and chewing on rough travel jerky.  A few of the dragons appeared to be socializing on the outskirts.  Jared nearly ran into Matt because he was staring at them so intently.

“Jared!” Matt said, and the cheerful smile on his face greatly contrasted his earlier dour expression.  He slung an arm over Jared’s shoulders, even though it was a reach for him to do so.  “Why, how are you doing?  Where were you assigned?”

There was no point in hiding what would soon become common knowledge.  “I’m to work for the prince,” he said, and perhaps it did not cause him the same amount of pride as being Lehne’s apprentice, but he had chosen it and that was good enough. 

Matt’s eyes were wide as saucers.  “Does that mean you’ve met the prince?” He asked in an eager undertone.  “I’ve already heard so many things… Some people were saying he might even dine with us!”

Shaking his head, Jared steered an unsteady Matt away from the center of the crowd.  “No, he is dining with his captains tonight, I think, so you will have to wait to catch a glimpse of him.”  The strangeness of having chosen Jensen over his family was still roiling within him, so he was eager to change the subject.  “How is your new master?”

“Excellent man,” Matt blustered.  “Nice loud voice and the most vulgar tales I’ve ever heard!  Of course, he’s skilled at weaponry as well.  Already he has taught me new ways to craft!”

“Excellent,” Jared echoed.  Unthinkingly, he had moved them closer to the dragons.  They were only feet away from a giant pearl one, who was eyeing him back inscrutably.  Matt was completely oblivious, but Jared inclined his head in greeting.  Holding his gaze, the dragon did the same before turning her attention elsewhere.

A gruff voice came from over his shoulder.  “She’s a beauty, ain’t she?”  Jared jumped, but Matt was so shocked he nearly fell down.  The other man laughed, and extended a hand to Matt.  “Watch yourself, young’un.  Be a shame to lose my apprentice his first day.”  When Matt was once again situated on his own two feet, the man reached out to shake Jared’s hand.  “Ty Olsson, Master of Weaponry around here.  And you are?”

“Jared Murray,” Jared said, marveling at Ty’s firm grip.  He could see this man working in a forge with no problem.  “Is she yours?”

Ty shook his head with a rueful laugh.  “Nah.  That girl is Jason’s, as much as she’s anyone’s.  Mighty independent creatures, dragons.”  He huffed out a breath and stuck his hands in his pockets.  “Nah, I’m a volunteer.  I ain’t got no bonded dragon, but any of ‘em will help me if I need a bit of heat.”  He winked at them.  “Mighty difficult, having a forge on the road.”

Jared _had_ wondered about that.  He smiled tentatively back.  “I imagine so.” 

Matt was, at this point, about to pass out.  Ty let out another rumbling chuckle before scooping his apprentice up to his side.  “Classic rookie mistake. The ale is stronger than you think it is.  Be careful, young Jared.”  Jared watched them go before setting his drink to the side.  It was one thing to drink socially, but it would not do to get drunk before discussing things with Jensen.

“You’re still here.” 

This time, Jared managed not to jump as Steve came up to his side.  The other man settled a companionable hand on Jared’s shoulder.   “If you’re still here, Jensen must like you at least a little.”

Humming, Jared shrugged.  “We’re to speak after dinner.”  He paused, and then added, “he gave me the option to leave.”

“He would,” Steve replied, unsurprised.  “Jensen’s always been an honorable one.”  There was an undercurrent to his words.  Jared was not sure what it was until the man turned those steady blue eyes on him.  “He won’t take anything you aren’t willing to give.  He’s likely not to take it even if you _are_ willing to give it.  He has a lot of morals, our Jensen.”

Jared nodded, showing that he understood the point the other man was making.  “You call him by name,” he commented, keeping his voice steady.  “You must have known each other an awful long time.”

“Nothing awful about the time at all,” Steve retorted, and smiled a bit.  “Aye, I’ve known Jensen since he was fourteen.  That’s when he started training with us.”  Tilting his head, his eyes went faraway as if caught up in the memory.  “He was still a scrawny little kid then.  And although he was years my junior, I couldn’t help respecting him.”  Steve gestured uselessly with his hands.  “He’s got this way about him, a sort of confidence and devotion that all great leaders have.”  Steve shook his head, making a clicking noise with his tongue.  “The only other man I’ve met that could even slightly compare to Jensen was the old Captain of the Guard, Jeffrey Dean Morgan.  It’s too bad...” 

He trailed off, but Jared knew what he was not saying.  Great leader or not, Lord Morgan had been executed for treason by the King’s own order.  Jared felt a strange sympathy with the man.  Most likely, he had only been trying to do the right thing, much like Jared’s own father, and the King had mercilessly cut him down.

As if he was shaking off the somber mood, Steve shook his head once more.  “Still, you’ll never meet a prince that cares more about his men than Jensen does.”

“I can see that,” Jared murmured, remembering the way he’d agreed to stay, almost against his own will.  Even in his childhood, something about Jensen had made Jared abnormally eager to please him.  “A good quality to have in a prince.”

“A _great_ quality,” Steve amended.  He took a sip of his ale.  “That’s why Chris and I decided to bring you in.  He tries so hard, taking care of all of us and the kingdom.  We need to know that there’s someone around to take care of him.”  He smiled and patted Jared’s back fondly.  “The instant Chris saw you, he said, ‘there’s something about that boy.’  And I’ve a mind to say he might’ve been on to something.” 

Flushing, Jared ducked his head.  “Thank you, sir.  I’ll do my best.”

“And there I thought the ale had shaken the ‘sir’ out of you.”  Steve grinned and clapped Jared’s back, much stronger this time.  “Dinner’s winding down.  You best hurry along back to your Master.  I’ve heard you’ve got a talk to have.”

Indeed, many of the men were stumbling back to their tents.  The only ones staying around the fire were singing and telling bawdy tales, the likes of which Jared had never heard.  Steve slipped away from his side and moved over to a brown dragon.  The dragon moved its head up, as if greeting him, and their foreheads touched in a gesture of affection.  Jared was transfixed for a moment, watching the man and his dragon, before he shook himself and turned away.  There would be plenty of time to stare at dragons.  He had to go to his prince.

Jensen was already in his tent by the time Jared made his way back.  There was a candle lit beside his cot and it bathed his face in a warm, yellow glow as he sharpened his dagger.  Jared paused to take him in, concerned by the way shadows seemed to cling beneath his eyes.  Jensen looked up from his work after a moment and smiled tiredly.  “Jared,” he said, his tongue unsteady, as if he still wasn’t sure he had the correct name.  When Jared nodded, he gestured to a rolled up set of blankets on the ground.  “I found you some things to sleep in.  We’ll get you clothing at our next stop.”  When Jared didn’t move, he waved a little impatiently.  “Go on.  Get set up.  Then we can talk.”

Despite the fact that he had chosen to stay, Jared was still a bit wary of Jensen.  He managed to not completely turn his back to the other man while he was rolling out his bedding and reorganizing his knapsack.  The bedding was good, better than he had had in years, really, and gingerly, he sat down so that he faced the prince.

The prince’s cot set him a foot off the ground, so he was looking down at Jared.  Jared was not sure if that was intentional or not.  “So.  Jared.”  The prince set his dagger aside.  “You come from the nearby town?”

“Yes, Highness.”

“And your family is still there?”

“Yes, Highness.”

“And yet you chose to stay with me.  Why?”

“I don’t know, sire.”

Jensen stared down at him for a moment, apparently nonplussed, but there was no other answer Jared could give.  The prince’s lips twitched up into a surprised grin.  “Well, at least you’re honest,” he said.  “What did you do in town, Jared?”

“I was an apprentice to the horse breeder and trainer, sire,” he said, and felt a familiar flutter of pride.  “I suspect that was why Lord Kane and Lord Carlson picked me.  They thought I might be helpful tending to your steeds and…”  He hesitated, blushing a little as some of Chris’s remarks came back to him.  “And other things.”

“Other things,” Jensen echoed, and grimaced.  Jared was startled to feel a pang of hurt run through him.  What should he care if the prince did not fancy sleeping with him?  Apparently, he _did_ care and wasn’t that just _great_.  Even his own _mind_ had decided to toy with him.  “You don’t have to worry about those, Jared,” Jensen said firmly.  “I will admit that I need a hand tending to my weapons and my horses, but I’ll not expect you to do anything else.”

Swallowing down his misplaced wounded pride, Jared nodded. “Of course, sire.  Will that be all?  Just your weapons and horses?”  Honestly, it did not sound like enough to keep Jared occupied.  He worked quickly and efficiently.  He would be bored with little else to do.  Perhaps he could find some work on his own, helping a few of the other Warriors, or—

Jensen frowned.  “There are some other things… but I don’t want to overburden you, Jared.  The majority of your work will have to be done in the early morning or evening.  Most days, we ride.  Between tending to my horses in the morning, setting up this tent once we’re settled, and taking care of my weapons, as well as my horses once again in the evening, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to do.”

For some reason, Jared felt like pressing the matter.  “Are you sure, my lord?  No other possible tasks I could do for you?  You’re—you must be very busy.  I’m sure I can handle it.”

Jensen hesitated for a moment.  “There is one other thing… but, Jared, you can tell me if it’s too much.”

Emboldened, Jared took a risk and said, “I’ll only know if it’s too much once you tell me what it is, sire, so I rather suggest you do that.”

Jensen let out a startled bark of laughter.  “You do have a tongue on you, don’t you?  Has Chris heard you speak so?”  Coloring a little from his blunt language, Jared bit down on his tongue lightly and shook his head.  Jensen laughed once more, shaking his head.  “I’d advise you not to let him.  The two of you together would make a terrible team against me.”

Encouraged by Jensen’s laughter, Jared grinned and said, “I somehow doubt I’ll be siding with Lord Kane any time soon.”

Instead of laughing once more, Jensen clammed up, face growing serious.  “He hasn’t offended you, has he?  Made any comments?  He can be vulgar, and I hope he didn’t—”

“He’s fine,” Jared interrupted daringly.  “I only meant to say that you are the prince and my master, not he.  And even if you weren’t, I fancy I would side with you anyway.”

Face softening once more, Jensen leaned forward to lay a hand on Jared’s shoulder.  “I appreciate that, Jared.  Even though you cannot mean it yet.”  Jared automatically opened his mouth to object and Jensen raised up a hand.  “No, we’ve only just met.  I have not proven myself to you yet.  I hope that I will, and that you will come to respect me the better for it.”

Jared was forced to admit to himself that the prince’s words rang true.  Jensen _did_ have something to prove.  His father had slaughtered Jared’s entire family, even if he kept forgetting it at the sight of those golden freckles and earnest eyes.  If Jensen was anything like his father, Jared would risk committing homicide to keep him from taking the throne.

Yet, something about Jensen had inspired Jared’s loyalty when he was only a child, and that same thing drew him closer now.  Steve had spoken of it, a kind of authority and respect.  Jared remembered his father being convinced that Jensen would bring the kingdom to rights once more, and he thought he could see why now.

“Yes, sire,” he said, and he did feel a tad bit more respect for the man.  “I hope so as well.”

Jensen smiled gently at him.  “I’m glad.”  He brought his hands down onto his thighs with a slap.  “As for the other duty I might assign you, it has to do with my dragon, Camulus.  You will meet him tomorrow and I will decide then whether to entrust you with it.  I could not do it without letting him meet you first.”  He didn’t seem to notice that Jared was frozen in place as he got up and stretched.  “As for now, we’d best get to sleep.  I’ll show you around and get you started on your duties tomorrow.”

The prince began to strip, and even Jared’s otherwise occupied brain couldn’t ignore that.  He watched as the layers came off; first coat, then vest, then his leather trousers, until all that remained was a grey tunic.  Blushing, Jared realized that he had not even noticed the prince’s clothes before, as he had been too occupied with staring at other parts of his body.  He tried to push down his embarrassment as Jensen yawned, ruffling his hair with his right hand, and clambered into bed.  “Goodnight, Jared,” he said, and turned to face the wall of the tent beside his cot.  “Change out of your things and then blow the candle out, will you?”

Jared shook off his stupor and nodded, even though Jensen could not see.  “Yes, Highness.  Night, Highness.”  He stripped down to his tunic as well, and snuffed the candle out with one easy breath of air.  As he settled down on his blankets, he thought with dread about meeting the prince’s dragon once more.  Dragons were said to be much more perceptive than their human companions.  Even if Jensen had not seen Jared for who he was, surely Camulus would.  That would end everything.

He should have taken his chance to get away and run with it.


	4. Chapter Three

“Jared.”

Jared grunted in his sleep, nuzzling closer into the soft blanket pressed up against his cheek.  He knew the time; it was not even dawn yet, so Chad had no business nudging him awake.  Especially since he was so comfortable, even though he was on the cold, hard ground…

Why was he on the ground?

With a gasp, Jared lurched awake, nearly smacking into Jensen, who was crouched beside him, as he sat up hurriedly.  “Your Highness!” He stuttered and scrambled to stand up.  Jensen straightened at a much more leisurely pace and his lips quirked upward at Jared’s antics.  Jared flushed and made a short half-bow, before he realized he really did not have to.  “Was there, um, something you needed?” He tried, only to elicit a full-on grin from Jensen.

“No, Jared,” Jensen said kindly, although he was still wearing the (rather silly) grin.  “But it is time for us to start getting ready for the day.  We leave at dawn.”

“Oh!”  That was right.  He was part of the prince’s caravan of warriors and they _travelled_.  “Right.  I mean, yes sire.”  He moved to begin getting ready, only to realize belatedly that he had absolutely no idea what to do.  “Erm.  What shall I do?”

Jensen chuckled a little, amused eyes flickering down Jared’s body.  “Well, getting dressed might be a good place to start.”  Jared let out what he refused to admit was a squeak when he realized he was still only in his tunic.  Shaking his head, Jensen moved towards the tent entrance.  “I’ll be waiting out here when you are done.”

“Right,” Jared managed to get out before Jensen exited the tent.  His shoulders slumped downwards.  “Great way to start, Jared,” he muttered, pulling on his trousers roughly.  Not that it really mattered, seeing as Camulus would expose him later that day anyway, but he couldn’t help chiding himself as he rushed to get dressed and pack up his things.

With his knapsack slung over his shoulder, with his blankets now lashed to the bottom of it, Jared did one last inspection of the tent.  Jensen had already packed up all his things, so there was little for others—and potentially himself—to do except take down the tent itself.  He would have to ask the prince whether he would be expected to help with that, as he no doubt was with setting it up.  There was little more Jared could do at the moment, but he resolved to talk to whoever dealt with loading the prince’s things and see if there was anything he could do to make their jobs easier.  As it was, he could not do more than rearrange a few things before he had to leave the tent and find the prince.

When he stepped outside, the prince was nowhere in sight.  Jared frowned at the bustle around him, other tents already being taken down as he looked around.  Jensen had said he would be right outside, had he not?  He hadn’t said he was going elsewhere, had he?  “Your Highness?” He called out, and was relieved when a responding call came from the other side of the tent.  He trudged around to the other side, curiosity piqued, only to freeze once the prince came into sight.

Jensen merely laughed at his shocked expression, no doubt attributing it to something else.  Surely, he thought Jared must be scared of dragons, instead of realizing Jared was scared of _his_ dragon.

Camulus stared inscrutably from where he sat as Jensen rubbed the scales on his neck.  He was much, _much_ larger than the last time Jared had seen him; he would no longer fit into a manor bedroom, that was for certain.  He rose above all the tents, even curled up as he was.  His scales were bright, even though the sun had not yet risen to shine on them.  Jared could only imagine what they would look like in the noon-sun.  It would be blinding.

“Jared, this is Camulus, King Dragon of Acklesland.  He’s my bonded, and… there’s really no reason to be afraid.  He won’t bite.  Come on closer.”

Jared really did not want to, but he could not disobey the prince’s command.  Besides, there was something about the relaxed way Jensen was around the dragon that was so different from what Jared had seen of him thus far.  He wanted to see it up close.

So he inched closer, until he could see the flecks of gold in Camulus’s emerald green eyes.  He tried to see if there was any hint of recognition there, but the dragon’s eyes did not show emotion the way a human’s did.  However, Jared thought he could see a bit of amusement in them when they glanced his way.  Then, the dragon huffed and closed his eyes, leaning into Jensen’s hand.  Jensen smiled, and it was such a private moment that Jared couldn’t help but look away.

Eventually, Jensen cleared his throat.  When Jared looked up, the prince was pulling away from his dragon with a few final pats.  “I’m going to go grab us food for the road and bring my horses here.”  When Jared readied himself to protest that he could do such things himself, Jensen held up a hand.  “In the future, I will expect you to do these things, but for now, I’d rather you spend some time with Camulus.”  He turned a stern gaze to the dragon.  “Don’t just ignore him, Cam.  He’s terrified enough as it is.”

The dragon let out a snort and shook his wings out a little bit, which did not look like agreement to Jared.  However, Jensen must have taken it as such, because he squeezed Jared’s shoulder once and then strode off into the maze of a camp.

Swallowing, Jared turned his eyes back to the dragon.

Camulus was looking right at him, eyes half-lidded.  Unable to do anything but stare back, Jared shifted uneasily where he stood.  “Well, I’m the prince’s new manservant, which I guess he told you…”  The words trailed off as Camulus blinked at him in a way Jared was pretty sure was condescending.  “Well, that’s reassuring,” Jared muttered to himself, and jumped a little when Camulus let out a barking sound.

The barking, which must have been laughter, died down, and Camulus adjusted his wings as if he was stretching before turning his gaze back to Jared.  “ _I know who you are_ ,” a voice like falling stones spoke suddenly in Jared’s mind.  “ _Jared of Padalecki.  I remember you._ ”

His greatest fear had come true.  That did not mean he couldn’t face it head on.  He swallowed and stuck his chin out, folding his arms across his chest.  “And I you,” he said, “Although I would appreciate you keeping that fact from his Highness.”

The dragon was completely unflustered.  In fact, Jared thought that the dragon might start barking out laughter again.  He yawned once, displaying jaws laden with sharp fangs, before blinking a few more times at Jared.  “ _The prince saved your life, did he not_?”

“He did,” Jared answered, unhesitating.  “He also let the rest of my family burn.”

This time, Jared could see sadness creep into Camulus’ eyes.  “ _We were young then,_ ” he said, sounding sorry, although Jared noticed that nowhere in his words lay an apology.  “ _We didn’t dare do more than we did._ ”

Jared remained silent.  He wasn’t sure what to say to that.

Unperturbed by the lack of response, Camulus drew himself up so he was sitting back on his haunches.  “ _The prince saved your life_ ,” he repeated, “ _and you owe him for that, no matter what else you feel he should have done._ ”

“Yes,” Jared agreed grudgingly.  “But I’m not going to tell him—”

“ _I was not suggesting you should, little Padalecki_ ,” Camulus rumbled with another raspy sounding bark.  “ _Your secret is your own, as long as you remember that you owe your loyalty to him.  Step out of line…_ ”  The dragon leaned down so his head was mere feet from Jared’s and let out a puff of steam from his nostrils.  “ _And we shall remind you exactly what you owe._ ”

“Fine,” Jared agreed, jerking back and away from the dragon.  He did not care if it was seen as an act of cowardice.  He was merely being sensible, getting away from the large beast who could breathe fire, that was all.  Camulus laughed again, and then snapped his wings open with a full-body shake.  One of the men narrowly avoided getting clipped in the shoulder.  With a low, humming growl, the dragon launched himself into the sky, where the sun was just beginning to rise.

The sound of hoofbeats alerted Jared to Jensen’s presence moments before he spoke.  “As I told you, you are still alive.  Do you trust me now?”

Jared turned to find the prince grinning at him lightly.  It was hard to reconcile this man with the solemn youth he had met in his manor, although Jared supposed that solemnity was mainly due to the intended massacre of hundreds of people.  Feeling too shaken to grin back, Jared crossed his arms over his chest.  “I find myself rather hurt, your Highness.  He barely spoke two words to me.”  He was proud that his voice did not tremble.

Jensen laughed, handing over the reins of one of his three horses, an ash-colored gelding.  “Then I suppose I shall have to make up for it on our journey, and speak four words to you instead.”

“And they say there are no manners like royalty’s,” Jared muttered, just loud enough to Jensen to hear as they both mounted their horses.  He rather liked the sound of Jensen’s laughter, he found.  Liked it even better than the taste of honey cakes.

Jensen rode a big black mare named Impalia.  Her coat had the sheen of a treasured steed.  At first, Jared had thought her to be a stallion, due to her size, but a quick check between her haunches proved otherwise.  He admitted as much to Jensen, when he was asked what he thought of the mare, and the prince adopted a fond smile.  “Nah, she’s definitely a girl.  Just as demanding and finicky as one too.”  He patted Impalia’s neck firmly.  “My sister adores her as well.  Whenever we’re home, Margaret will visit her in the stables daily.  She’s going to make her fat, someday.”  Jensen’s eyes were far away as he talked about his little sister, the Princess Margaret.  Jared swallowed and looked at the mane of his own horse, hoping Jensen would leave off there.  Of course, his wishes never came true.  “Do you have a sister back home, Jared?”

“No, Your Highness,” Jared said neutrally, carefully keeping his gaze straight ahead.  They had only been riding for a few hours, but any land outside the small village he had lived in for the past ten years was unfamiliar to him.  “I do not.”  Swallowing, he decided he might as well get it over with.  “I’m an orphan, sire.  My aunt raised me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”  Jared could not hear any trace of false sympathy in Jensen’s voice as it blended in with the horses’ hoofbeats and the dragons’ wings flapping overhead.  “I did not mean to bring up any painful memories.”

Jared doubted the prince was looking, but he shook his head anyway.  “It was a long time ago, sire.”  Even so, Jared raised a hand to his chest and pressed down over his heart, thinking that time could not heal everything.

Seeing as Jensen was the prince, they were riding near the front of the company, only preceded by scouts, messengers, and enough guards to ensure Jensen could not be easily sighted by an enemy archer.  Jared heard some things from conversations between Jensen and his captains as he rode; some he surmised for himself.  They were headed south, due to a feud between two powerful nobles.  Relations between Acklesland and the land to their south had never been fully peaceful since the war of Jared’s childhood.  Acklesland did not need two of their border nobles fighting one another, and thus allowing enemy troops to sneak in.  King Alvard wanted Jensen to go and smooth things over, while simultaneously reinforcing the area with his troops, in case the southern kingdom got any ideas about the state of Acklesland’s defenses.

Jared thought of his father ranting about King Alvard’s excesses in the Great Southern War, and gritted his teeth.  It was not his place to judge the politics of the nation.  Not anymore.

Jensen’s captains had no such compunctions.  Even though it was likely that every other person besides Jensen in the Warriors’ troop was originally a commoner, they grumbled openly.  Jared’s eyes widened a little when Chris openly discussed disobeying the King’s orders and heading east instead.

He was right behind Jensen as the two men argued.  Chris gestured vehemently with every word.  “Your Highness, you know as well as I do that the southerners are recovering from a bad harvest season.  They are in _no_ shape to attack.”  He snorted, throwing his hands up the air.  “This is just a case of two nobles acting like ignorant _fools_ over one tiny piece of land.  _Any_ of your father’s diplomats could resolve this, but _diplomats_ would be no help against the upsurgence of bandit activity in the east!”

Jared thought he could see the muscles in the back of Jensen’s neck stiffening.  He lowered his voice to reply to Chris, but that did not mean his words were any less clear to anyone who might be deliberately listening, like Jared.  “The King’s orders are absolute,” the prince said lowly, firmly.  “You _know_ that, Christian.  We _must_ trust his judgment when it comes to what is best for Acklesland.  I understand your concerns, but you are in _no_ position to think about disobeying orders right now.”  His eyes flitted meaningfully to Jared, and Chris had the grace to look a little bit abashed.  “Besides, there is another reason my father wishes us to head south.”

“Oh?” Chris’s eyebrows flew upwards.  “And you didn’t think it was suitable to tell us all earlier?”

Jensen grimaced.  It made him look more like a regular man and less like a prince.  “There may have been… personal reasons I did not wish to speak about it.”  When Chris did nothing but stare expectantly, the prince sighed.  “The Queen Egg’s attendants are traveling to Lord Estiram’s Manor at the moment.  They are hoping that either one of Lord Estiram’s or Lord Reichenmore’s daughters will cause the egg to hatch.”

“Oh!”  This time the sound that left Chris’s voice was weighted with much more significance.  “So he’s hoping something’ll happen and you can get married as soon as possible.”

“I got that impression,” Jensen mumbled, and Jared could hear a childlike sullenness in it.  “Although why he thinks this time will be any different than any of the times before, I’m not sure.  Damn egg refuses to hatch.”  Jensen fell silent for a moment.  “If it weren’t for the fact that Camulus is sure the Queen Rider is out there still, I’d be afraid that…”

The corners of Chris’s mouth tilted downwards and his eyes flitted down in a similar expression of grief.  “You thought she might’ve been a Padalecki?”

A dart of fear flashed through Jared’s heart, which accelerated at a terrifying pace, but he forced himself to remain calm.  It was quite clear that Chris referring to his family had nothing to do with him.  They were discussing the Queen Egg, after all.  He was male. It would not have hatched for him.

Unlike normal dragon eggs, or even the King Dragon Egg, the Queen Egg would only hatch for a girl from a noble family.  Scholars suspected that it was a way to tie the dragons closer to the royal family, although, with Jensen’s bond to the King Dragon, it was not necessary this time around.  However, usually the King Dragon would only bond with someone of common blood, so having a balance was important.

Trying to slow his breathing, Jared tuned back into Jensen and Chris’s conversation.  “Yeah, I did,” Jensen said, his voice low and upset.  “They already had one girl.  They might’ve had another if…”  Voice breaking, Jensen stopped speaking, shoulders slumping in as the unsaid words rang in the air.

“Hey…”  Chris clapped a hand on Jensen’s shoulder.  “There was nothing you could’ve done, sire.  You were just a kid.  And how were you supposed to know that marauders would attack the house after you left?  We’re just all very lucky you and the King had already left.  We might’ve lost you all if you had stayed the night.”

Jensen nodded, but Jared could see the weight of guilt hanging on his shoulders.  They both knew that there had been no marauders.  Jared wondered how Jensen could bear to continue following his father’s orders after he had slaughtered a whole family in cold blood.  Rage curdled up in Jared’s stomach and he forced himself to tune everything out.  If he heard much more, he would not be able to resist the urge to stab someone.

Despite himself, Jensen’s words slipped into his ears.  “Well, luckily the Queen Rider was not among them.  Although I have no idea where she is.  They’ve travelled to nearly every noble family in the country…”

Chris hesitated visibly, and then spoke slowly.  “There is a possibility that you may not want to consider…”

Jensen’s head perked up warily.  “What?”

Biting at his lower lip, Chris shifted in his seat.  “It’s just that… well, nobles are known for ‘sowing their seed’, so to speak.”

“You think the Queen Rider might be a bastard,” Jensen said bluntly, and sat back in his seat on Impalia’s back.  His eyes focused on the horizon.  “I had not thought of that.”

“You might want to,” Chris advised, but wisely did not say anything more.  Jensen gave a stiff nod, which was clearly a dismissal.  The second-in-command spared Jared one more glance before galloping off, back to speak to the troops.  Doubtless, he would spread the word about the Queen Egg so that dissent for the trip south would lessen.

The discussion with Chris had not left Jensen looking any happier.  In fact, Jared could hardly believe that the same man had been grinning and joking with him that morning.  He was grim and stone-faced, staring ahead with little to no expression.  Jared nudged his horse forward,until they were riding side-by-side.

Jensen shot him a sideways glance and then smiled ruefully.  “You were listening, weren’t you?”

“I might’ve been,” Jared acknowledged.  Jensen opened his mouth, but Jared cut him off, feeling a little daring.  “We don’t have to talk about it, if your Highness does not wish to.”

Jensen relaxed so visibly that he almost slumped in his seat.  “Thank you,” he said, utterly genuine.  “I appreciate that, Jared.”

“Anytime, your Highness.”  Really, Jared would prefer not to discuss it himself, so Jensen’s silence suited him in his current mood.

There was silence between them as they continued to ride peaceably.  Every so often, someone would come seeking Jensen’s opinion on something, but most of the time that was quickly dealt with.  At some point, Jensen turned his gaze to Jared instead of the ever-drier land in front of them.  “You have a good seat on a horse, Jared.”

“Thank you, sire,” Jared said, but inside he was wondering if he should have been more careful to disguise his excellent horsemanship.  He had been trained by the best tutors, but it was possibe the apprentice to a horse-master would not be quite as skilled a rider.

He was relieved when Jensen merely said, “your teacher taught you well” and left it at that.  It was a few more minutes before the prince spoke again.  “Do you like caring for the horses?”

“I do enjoy it,” Jared affirmed, and could not help the small smile that crept onto his face.  “I’ve always greatly enjoyed working with animals, sire.”  There had been hounds at his manor when he was young.  He had loved to romp with them in the afternoon after lessons.  Mrs. Murray had always scolded him for getting dirty after such adventures, but they had been worth it.  Unfortunately, Jared-the-commoner had no such experiences to share.  “Why, your Highness?”

Jensen rolled his shoulders back stiffly.  His voice was awkward and stilted as he spoke.  “If you would prefer to work exclusively for the horses with us, I will not object.  You do not have to be my manservant, Jared, if there is something else you prefer.”

Another opportunity to get out.  Jared studied the prince’s profile, the stern rigidness of him.  He tried to recall his earlier anger, when Jensen had held up the farce of the Padalecki Massacre in front of Christian, but the passionate rage slipped through his fingers.  He could not even summon up the fear he had felt at meeting Camulus.  Without quite knowing why, he shook his head like before.  “No, sire,” he said softly, and waited for Jensen’s eyes to turn to him before smiling.  “I think I’ll be just fine where I am.”

Almost unwilling, Jensen’s lips tilted upwards into a small smile.

When they made camp for the evening, Jensen left Jared’s side for the first time that day.  In reality, Jared did not notice as much as he expected.  He had to deal with the horses, Jensen’s tent, and what cleaning he could get done before Jensen returned.  He had just moved to polishing Jensen’s stirrups when the man himself swept back into the tent.

He shoved a plate of food at Jared.  “Eat quickly.  My captains and I are meeting for dinner soon, and I need you there to pour wine.”  Oh _great,_ Jared thought, keeping his face blank.  He must not have controlled his expression as well as he thought he had, though, because Jensen cracked an indulgent smile.  “I know, it sounds like a pretty boring job.  But it’s the best way to keep you up to date on what’s going on instead of my having to repeat it.  Just listen, and let me know if you have any questions afterwards.”

Jared began shoveling food into his mouth.  In between bites, he forced out, “I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful, sire—”

Jensen waved a hand, cutting him off.  “No one likes wine duty,” he said kindly.  “It’s perfectly normal.  You won’t have to do it much.  Just every now and then.”

“Yes sire,” Jared muttered before digging back into his food.  It was hot; Jensen had probably gotten it directly from whoever was making the food tonight, just for him.  Jared’s stomach warmed at the idea that Jensen had gone out of his way to take care of him.

He kept his eyes on Jensen, who was pacing the tent like a chained beast.  He swallowed a burning mouthful of stew, before saying, “Are you alright, sire?”

Jensen startled a little, and he was flustered when he looked at Jared.  “Oh, yes.  I’m fine.  Just a little bit…”  He shook his head.  “It’s nothing.”

Instead of pushing the subject, Jared simply nodded.  “About how long will the journey take, do you think?”

Jensen’s lips twisted downwards and his jaw clenched, all confirmation of what Jared had suspected.  “Two or three more days at most,” he said with a scowl.  “My father has sent word to both nobles to meet us at Lord Estriam’s holdings.  He’s disguised the whole meeting as a way for their daughters to interact with the Queen Egg, but he’s hoping I can make peace between them, regardless of the Egg hatching.”  He glanced over at Jared and winced a little.  “I’m sorry, Jared.  This probably isn’t of any interest to you.”

Unsure what else to do, Jared shrugged.  “It is of interest to _you_ , sire.  Regardless of my own personal feelings, that means it is relevant to me.”  He smiled wanly up at the prince.  “Your matters are my matters, after all.”

Jensen’s mouth twitched into something that could’ve been a smile, if not for the tension rampant across the rest of his face.  “For a horse-master’s apprentice, you make a very good manservant, Jared.”

“I am here to please, your Highness,” Jared retorted, finishing the last of his meal.  He set the dish down carefully by the entrance to the tent.  He would take them to be cleaned after Jensen’s meeting, or, if that took too long, deal with them in the morning.  He turned his attention to Jensen, trying to look both confident and deferential.  “I am ready, your Highness.”

Sighing, Jensen shook his head a little, more as if he was trying to clear it than disagreeing.  “I suppose you are.”  He strode to the front of the tent, beckoning Jared with a quick motion of his fingers.  “Come along, Jared.”

The captains’ dining tent was not far from Jensen’s central tent.  It was also far more elaborate; the front panel was embroidered with golden stitching in the form of swooping dragons over the green cloth.  Jared cast his eyes to the sky before they entered, but the dragons must have been out hunting for their own supper, because there were no brightly-colored wings to be seen.  He entered the tent on Jensen’s heels, and was not surprised to find the tent already near full.  All the men rose from their former seats at a large table at Jensen’s entrance.  The prince nodded shortly at them, with a muttered, “Captains”, which seemed to be a general signal to sit back down and resume talk.

On the whole, there were probably about eight men in the tent, plus Jared and Jensen.  Chris and Steve were seated near the head of the table, the two of them surrounding the main place, which Jared assumed was Jensen’s.  The six other men completed the circle.  Seeing as it was a space for meeting and dining, there was little else in the room except for the large table and a smaller sidebar.  Everyone’s plates were already full, but their glasses were empty.  Jared had little trouble spotting the jug of wine and hoisted it up to begin filling cups.

“There’s a good boy,” one of them said when he’d filled his cup to the rim.  He was startled when the man fondled his ass as he moved away.  Automatically, his eyes flew to Jensen, but the prince was too involved with Steve and Chris to have seen or noticed anything.  Drawing himself up, Jared steadied himself and forced himself not react when one of the others slapped his rear as he moved to stand at the corner of the tent.

Of course, the instant he was done, Jensen turned his eyes to the rest of the men.  “Evening, gentlemen.  Hopefully we can keep this short,” he said and there was general rumbling as everyone raised their cups to their mouths to drink.  “Captain Hartley, what news have you?”

A blond man with bulky muscles cleared his throat.  “Weather in the South has been rather cool, especially for this late in the year.  Luckily, this means we’ll be able to travel farther each day without worrying about the state of our horses.  We should reach Lord Estriam’s Manor in two days if we ride at full speed.”

“If I may…”  Another man cut in.

Jensen waved his hand generously.  “Continue, Captain Manns.”

The man nodded, and spoke in a clear, careful voice.  “We hardly need our full numbers to deal with this problem.  The East cries for our help with their bandits.  If you will give me leave, I can take twenty or so men and their dragons, and take care of what I can whilst you are occupied with other interests.  Then you can join me there once you are finished.”  Jensen’s face remained inscrutable, but Captain Manns pushed on.  “We will be able to ride much more quickly without the whole company.  It could be more than two weeks for the entire company to arrive if we left _now_ , without this whole excursion to the south.  Who knows what damage could be done by the time you get there, Highness?”

Jensen drummed his fingers against the table.  “You know I am against splitting up the Riders unless it is an emergency situation.”

“I do,” Captain Manns replied quickly, as if sensing Jensen was ready to give.  “But I also know you want to give the people all the aid you can.  This expedition your father has sent us on leaves the people alone and undefended whilst you sit and negotiate.  You must see that my plan allows a slightly better course of action.”

The prince’s green eyes flickered to Chris, who did not waste time in speaking.  “He’s right, your Highness.  We will not be inconvenienced with their loss, but they will still be able to make an impact on the raiders in the East.  It is a good compromise."

A few more moments dragged out before Jensen reluctantly nodded.  “I agree that splitting up in this case may be necessary.  But if we are going to divide, we can manage more than twenty, I think.”  His eyes flitted around the table, before settling on the first man who had pinched Jared.  “Captain Roche, you will take your unit and join Captain Manns’.  Hopefully you can clear out the bandit infestation while we are in the South.  You’ll ride out first thing tomorrow morning.  Alert your troops as soon as we finish here.”

“Yes sir,” the two men chimed in unison.

Jensen nodded regally, then addressed the whole table.  “Is there anything else we should address before we move to lighter topics?”

There was general dissent and the tension in Jensen’s shoulders seemed to lessen.  “Good.”  His lips quirked up into a smile.  “Cheers then.  To Manns and Roche’s venture.”

“To the Queen Egg!” Another captain chimed in, and Jensen’s smile froze on his face.

Roche smirked a little and his eyes turned to Jared.  “And to our prince’s lovely new manservant!”

There was general laughter around the table, especially when Jared blushed and ducked his head.  Even Jensen was chuckling a little bit.  It seemed like the topic would fade away, and then Roche leaned in across the table.  “But he must be excellent if you have kept him, Jensen.  I’ve never known you to keep one beyond the night.”

A few of the other men snickered, but Jensen’s face hardened.  “Excuse me?”

Obviously, Roche was not skilled in reading nonverbal cues.  Even though Jensen’s voice was cold and sharp as steel, he merely leered and continued in a low, dirty tone.  “I will say he’s definitely the prettiest one you’ve had.  How did you have him?  Did you take his mouth first or his—”

There was a metallic screeching sound and a bright flash in the candlelit tent, and then the tip of Jensen’s sword was pressed to the hollow Roche’s throat.  Jensen was on his feet, face flushed red with anger.  “If I _ever_ hear you talking about Jared like that _ever_ again, I can promise you will not be serving as Captain to the Riders any longer.  Do you understand?”

Roche was trembling as he nodded.

Slowly, Jensen drew his sword back and slid it smoothly back into his scabbard.  His eyes were piercing as he glared around the table.  “The same goes for any of you.  Jared is a _person_ , and I expect him to be treated as such.”  He let that hover for a moment, before moving away from the table.  “I will be eating the rest of my meal in my tent.  Come, Jared.”  He strode out angrily, leaving Jared to scramble after him.

Jensen walked fast when he was angry.  Jared was panting a little by the time he caught up.  He realized his hand was reaching out to grab Jensen’s shoulder and stopped himself just in time.  “Sire,” he said, keeping his voice low as people walking by cast them strange looks.  “You did not have to do that for me.  It was fine.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jensen said shortly, shoving aside the entrance to his tent and storming in.  The flap of the curtain almost fell on Jared’s face.  Once his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside the tent, he saw Jensen pacing once more, fury radiating off of him.  “The fact that one of my captains would speak about you like that in the first place, much less in _front_ of you!”

Jared kept still and tried to keep his voice even.  “You knew there would be rumors.  You knew people would assume—”

Jensen whirled on him, eyes blazing.  “Yes, Jared.  I was raised in court.  I know about rumors and I know how they work.  But perhaps I thought that among _my_ Warriors, there would be a bit more dignity, more chivalry.  Just because some people use their manservants _that_ way, doesn’t mean that I…”  Cutting himself off, he shook his head fiercely.

Venturing a step closer, Jared’s voice was soft as he spoke.  “And that might be true for the rest of the men.  Your captains’ manservants do not receive nearly the same level of attention.  But, you are the prince.  You must see the difference.”

With those words, all of Jensen’s barely restrained anger and energy fell away.  His shoulders sagged and he ran a weary hand over his face.  “I do.  I do see it.  I just wish it was not there.”  He ran a hand through his hair and collapsed back on his cot.  “Go see if you can get some food and ale for us, Jared.  We will dine in tonight.”

“Yes, sire,” Jared said with a small bow, not bothering to remind Jensen he’d already eaten, and slipped outside.

The sun had not set yet.  There would still be plenty of food and alcohol.  He moved to head towards the general eating area when a low rumble interrupted him.  He jerked his head to the side, only to see Camulus chowing down on a hunk of meat beside Jensen’s tent.  His glowing eyes were fixed on Jared.  For some reason, Jared could not help blushing before practically running away.  Camulus’s laughter stayed in his mind even as he wove further into the maze of tents.


	5. Chapter Four

Perhaps Jared had brought back a little _too_ much ale.  A couple of hours later, he and Jensen were leaning back against Jensen’s cot, not entirely sober.  In fact, if Jared’s increasing fascination with the ties on Jensen’s form-fitting leather pants was any indication, they were actually rather drunk.

Jensen had the jug of wine in hand and he was gesturing with it as he spoke.  His voice had gotten even lower with the alcohol, settling into a sex-laced kind of drawl.  Perhaps it was only Jared’s drunken libido that thought so.  Either way, his words filled Jared with a feverish kind of excitement.  “Most of the time, I don’t mind being a prince.  Caring for the people… I do not mind that.  I am proud to rule them.  But the increasing fascination with my romantic life… Even my father is always asking.  I don’t understand—”

“You are the prince!” Jared slurred, and then hiccuped a little, before scooting closer to Jensen to emphasize his point.  “They talk just as much about your skill in combat and your kind heart.  You just don’t notice as much because you don’t _mind_ that.”  He shook his head, which only made him dizzy.  “They talk about you in my village all the time, you know.”

“Really?”  Jensen’s eyes were a dark forest green as they turned to him.  His overly-sweet breath was moist on Jared’s face.  “What do they say, Jared?”

“Oh, I don’t know.”  A piece of hair had fallen in Jared’s face.  He huffed at it, hoping his breath would move it, but it stayed stubbornly put.  He scowled at it while he talked. “The girls liked to gossip about how handsome you were, about how—”  He blushed a little.  “They liked that you were a Warrior.  They thought you would be… be fierce in bed.  Like a dragon.”

Jensen’s hands brushed the hair out of his face, petting at it until it was back where it should be.  “Did you talk with them, Jared?  About me?”

Shaking his head minutely, Jared looked down at his lap.  “No, sire.  I am not one for gossip.”

“No, I suspected not.”  Jensen’s voice was fond.  There was a pause, and it was speculative by the time he spoke next.  “I have bedded women.  And men.”

“Oh?”  There might have been a chance that Jared’s voice squeaked a little.  “I had not heard that.”

Jensen nodded absentmindedly.  “I always make sure they are very discreet.  I do not like to feed those that are hungry for scraps of information about my life.”  He snorted and leaned his head back to look at the roof of the tent.  “But I always feel badly afterwards.”  His hands waved in the air, trying to say something his words could not.  “Because I am destined for be with some girl I don’t even know yet.  Whoever the Queen Egg hatches for…”  He bit down on his plush lower lip and Jared’s eyes followed the movement.  “It is not fair to let anyone get attached.”

“I’m not sure you could stop them,” Jared breathed, eyes lingering along the curve of Jensen’s jaw.  When Jensen’s eyes turned to him, he did nothing to hide the awed expression on his face.  “I’m not sure you could keep people from falling in love with you.”

There was a tint of pink high on Jensen’s cheekbones.  “Still,” he murmured, abashed in the face of Jared’s honesty, “I do not like to give anyone false hope.  Or…”  He licked his lips, eyes still on Jared’s.  “Put myself in danger of breaking my own heart.”

“You must be very lonely, Highness,” Jared whispered, and their faces were only a few inches apart.  “You should not be so.”

“I wish…” Jensen said, but he was unable to finish because Jared lightly brushed their lips together.

Their eyes stayed open as their lips touched.  It was not quite a kiss.  They were just breathing into each other’s mouths.  But, Jared thought, he would like to kiss Jensen properly.  He would like that very much.

“I…”  Jensen exhaled, and then pulled back, movements sloppy from the alcohol.  “That was—Jared, I wish, but I—”

Normally, Jared would have let it go, but the liquid courage within him pushed him to lay a hand on Jensen’s thigh.  He forgot his family, his station, _everything_ , as the prince’s darkened eyes flew down to stare at Jared’s hand in surprise, lush mouth hanging half open.  “Highness,” Jared sighed, “You do not deserve to be so alone.  I offer you comfort, with no strings attached.  If you’ll have me.”

The moment hung, frozen in time.  It was both a second and a year.  It was forever.  Jared could see the two choices hanging in front of them, and was afraid that Jensen would choose the other path.  Jared let out a moan of relief when Jensen’s choice became obvious as his lips descended onto Jared’s.

“I should not,” Jensen gasped, even as he was laying many desperate kisses over Jared’s face and neck, “but I have dreamt of this for so long…  Jared!”

Jared did not have time to be confused by Jensen’s statement.  Jensen was crawling over him, pressing him into the dirt floor.  Their kisses were sloppy with unrestrained hunger, and Jared’s body arched with sensation as Jensen’s hands flitted over him.  They ran over his chest, his shoulders, his hips, and his stomach, before moving back to rub at his ass, all the while tugging at his clothing.  He bucked upwards, and groaned as his hard cock met another hardness.

“Our breeches,” Jensen panted, and his fingers went to the lacings in the front of his pants for a second before flying to Jared’s, even though his were not even halfway undone.  “Let me take out your cock, Jared.  I want to see you.”

“Yes!”  Jared cried, astonished and aroused by Jensen’s blunt crudeness.  His voice was strangled as he tried to keep it down.  It must have still been too loud, because Jensen’s hand flew up to cover his mouth.

“Quiet,” he hissed, but he was distracted quickly as he finally got the lacings of Jared’s pants undone and pulled his cock out.  He gripped it with drunken eagerness.  It was not skilled, but it was still more than Jared had ever had.  He thrust up into it, and nearly sobbed when the hand was removed. 

“One second, Jared, just one second,” Jensen murmured distractedly, hands plucking desperately at his own bindings again.  “I want to feel you against me, just one second.”

When Jensen’s cock was unveiled, Jared moaned out loud, mouth watering a little bit.  He wanted to touch it, put his mouth on it, feel it rocking against his ass, his stomach, his dick.  Jensen did not leave him waiting long.  He was covering Jared again in a second, both of their cocks slotted together in his hand.  Jared tossed his head back and forth as he felt them moving and thrusting against each other.  His hips had a mind of their own.  They kept fucking upwards without his conscious command.  All he could do was hang onto Jensen’s shoulders and try to keep his eyes open.

Perhaps if they were not quite so drunk, he could’ve lasted longer.  As it was, Jared had only had Jensen’s hand on his cock for a few minutes before he was groaning and whining with his need to come.  He squirmed under Jensen, panting even as he tried to pull him closer, kiss him harder.  “Jensen,” he gasped out, “Jensen, please, I _need_ it.”

“Shhh,” Jensen muttered, and his eyes seemed black with the darkness and lust.  “I know you do, I know.  You can.  Whenever.  You can.  I want you to—”

Before he could even stop speaking, Jared was arching off the ground, grunting and writhing as he came.  In the midst of his orgasm, he heard Jensen letting out his own soft cry and felt him bite down on his shoulder, Jensen’s body jerking with his own climax.

In the aftermath, Jensen could not stop petting his face.  He looked down on Jared as if he was something precious and wonderful, cradling his cheeks between both hands.  “We must… we must sleep now, Jared.  Tomorrow, we will…”  His eyes moved constantly, taking in all of Jared’s face.  “But now we must sleep.”

“Yes sire,” Jared let out, leaning upwards for one more kiss.  “Sleep.”

He slept so much better with a large body curled up against him than he had on his own.

The next day was possibly the most awkward of Jared’s existence.  He could not look Jensen in the eye, nor could Jensen seem to look at him.  What had seemed so sensible and perfect in the darkness of the night now seemed like the worst mistake he had ever made.  He could obviously not be trusted around Jensen.  Three times now he had made hasty, ill-advised decisions, that would likely lead to him being discovered or getting in some other type of trouble.  He was not doing very well at keeping his promise to Chad to take care of himself.

He blushed at thinking how desperate he had been for it, how he had practically seduced the prince.  He, who had never lain with so much as a peasant woman!  A virgin, chaste, but given the first opportunity, he could not seem to wait to clamber into the prince’s bed.  He may as well have just gotten on his bed, stuck his ass in the air, and begged for a good fuck.  He had acted like… like a _slattern_ , a whore.  His cheeks burned red just thinking of it.

Jensen was his _prince_ , not his lover or anything of the sort.  As the man had said himself, he was destined for another.  Not only that, but sleeping with Jensen would mean sleeping with a man who had done nothing to prevent his family’s massacre.  No, only pain would follow if Jared persisted in making a fool of himself and kept trying to find his way into the prince’s bed.

Jensen had been drunk as well.  In the light of day, he was doubtless ashamed of having slept with someone as lowly and wanton as Jared.  Jared rubbed at his cheeks, shaking his head a little in embarrassment.  He was lucky the prince had not dismissed him first thing in the morning for being so bold and tasteless.

The situation was not made any better by the amused comments Camulus kept sending their way.  Bonded to Jensen as he was, he knew exactly what had happened during the night.  Jared was besieged by his chuckling and telling looks. Apparently he had even informed some of the other dragons, who were kind enough to keep it from their Riders, but did not bother to keep from snickering at Jared. 

By the end of the day, Jared was pretty sure his face would be a particularly bright shade of red for the rest of his life. 

That night, after they settled down to camp, Jared avoided Jensen as long as he could.  He set up the prince’s tent in a hurry, before rushing to the general eating area.  There, he clung onto Matt for a good couple of hours.  He would rather put up with ribald jokes from the men than have to see Jensen’s face, full of disappointment and disgust.

Eventually, he had to drag himself back to the prince’s quarters.  He slid through the flap in the tent as quietly as possible, hoping that the prince would already be asleep.  It appeared that he was at the bottom of Fortune’s Wheel yet again.  Jensen was sitting upright on his cot, hands laced together in front of him, elbows on his knees.  The light of a lantern cast shadows on his face. 

He did not look up when Jared entered.  Jared hovered by the door, uncertain what to do.  The silence stretched between them a few moments, before Jensen said stiffly, “I would like to apologize for the previous night.”

The hope Jared had not realized he had been harboring died a painful death.  “Oh,” he murmured.

Jensen kept speaking, cheeks red.  “I know that I… took advantage of you in more ways than one.  You are my _manservant_ and you were intoxicated.  I should have stopped things before…  I do not want you to think that you _must_ please me that way, Jared.  That is _not_ part of your duties.”

Jared ducked his head to stare at the ground.  “Yes, sire.  I understand.  I am sorry for my behavior.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Jared.”  Jensen’s voice was baffled.  “You did nothing wrong.  Why would you apologize?”

Shuffling his feet, Jared licked his lips and summoned up the courage to continue.  “Last night.  I acted like some kind of… loose woman.  Or something.  I pushed myself on you, a-and I am greatly ashamed—”

“Jared.”  Without him noticing, Jensen had moved to stand in front of him.  He brought two fingers under Jared’s chin and raised his face upwards.  His expression was both confused and fond.  “I do not think _your_ actions were anything to be ashamed of,” Jensen said softly, brow creased.  “If either of us should be ashamed, it is _me_ , for taking advantage of you in such a way.”

Jared shook his head vehemently.  “I was nothing but perfectly willing, your Highness.  You must have seen how I practically threw myself at you—”

Jared was stopped by a finger against his lips.  Jensen’s lips quirked upwards into a tentative smile.  “Perhaps neither of us have anything to be ashamed of.  Jared, I found last night… anything but distasteful.”

“Oh.”  He could not find more words, as he stared at the prince and blushed.  His eyes flickered everywhere, the embarrassment too much.  “I am glad for that.”

“I will not do it again,” Jensen said firmly, and Jared felt himself begin to feel ashamed all over again.  Jensen took him by the shoulders and shook him a little.  “Let me finish before you bring out those puppy-dog eyes of yours, Jared.”  He took a deep breath.  “Tomorrow evening, we will be at Lord Estriam’s Manor and the Queen Egg shall be presented.  Knowing that I may meet my fiancée tomorrow, I cannot justify lying with you tonight in that manner.  But…”  He paused and clutched at Jared’s arms a little bit more. “I would like to lay with you in a different manner, if you will have me.”  Jared’s eyes flicked up to stare into the prince’s, full of shock.  Jensen’s smile was so soft and vulnerable it nearly broke his heart.  “I would be very honored if you would spend tonight in my bed, Jared.”

Jared glanced over at the cot, and remembered how wonderful it had felt to sleep enveloped in Jensen’s arms.  “Just to sleep?”  He asked tentatively.  “Nothing more?”

“Nothing more,” Jensen confirmed.  “I just wish to hold you in my arms.”

Licking his lips, Jared nodded slowly.  “I think I would be amenable to that, your Highness.”

“Good.”  Jensen’s grin was bright and boyish.  “I am glad.”

Things were still awkward as they settled into bed, but once Jensen’s arms were around him, Jared could do nothing but relax.  Despite all the things that had happened in the past, something about Jensen felt intrinsically safe to him.  All he wanted to do was hold him tighter.

Jared was nearly asleep when Jensen murmured, “I am scared.”

Jared froze a little bit, before gingerly reaching up to sweep his fingers along Jensen’s cheek.  “Why?”  He breathed, scared that if he spoke too loud, the moment would be ruined.

Jensen sighed heavily against him and pressed closer, hiding his face.  “If my wife, my Queen, is found tomorrow… I am scared it will not feel like this.  There is something about you, Jared.  I am loath to give it up.”

There was nothing to say to that.  Instead, Jared just combed his hands through Jensen’s hair until the prince’s breathing evened out and he fell asleep wrapped around Jared.

Jared was hoping that the weather would be miserable and they would be kept from reaching Lord Estriam’s for another night, but the opposite was the case.

“The weather is just beautiful today, isn’t it?” Steve said amiably from where he rode alongside Jared, just behind Jensen.  “Perhaps it is a good omen for the hatching of the Queen Egg.”

Jared could not help glowering at the man.  It would be just his luck if the Queen Egg decided to hatch after all these years, just days after Jared and Jensen had been reunited.  Days after he got one taste of what might have been the best thing he’d ever had in his life… 

He wasn’t sure what he would do if the Queen Egg did hatch for one of the noble women at Lord Estriam’s Manor.  Doubtless, Jensen would fall in love with her nearly instantly.  She was meant for him, his _mate,_ if one wanted to use the language of the dragons.  Jared would be left to serve them and pretend that his own heart was not breaking.

He was not… _in love_ with Jensen.  Things were too complicated for that, what with Jared’s still mixed feelings about Jensen’s role in his family’s deaths, and it had been too little time.  But there was something incredibly intense about what he felt for the man, more so than anything he’d ever felt before.  It would hurt if it was severed, even so early into their re-acquaintance. 

Jensen was a good man.  Everything he had seen since their reunion had proven that.  He would not be cruel.  Likely he would find another job for Jared, tending to the horses or something, somewhere far away where he would not have to watch Jensen be in love with some woman.  Then Jared would be miserable and regret not taking one of the many outs Jensen had given him to go back home.

Chris let out a sigh.  “You’re both in an awful mood,” he said to Jensen and Jared.  “Was the tent on rocky ground last night or something?”

“The ground was fine,” Jensen grunted, but did not say anything else.  When Chris looked at Jared, Jared carefully kept his eyes on his horse’s mane.  Chris let out another gusty sigh, then stayed silent.

By the time the manor came into view, most of the Warriors were in a bad mood.  The fact that they were there just to sit and look pretty did not help.  Even the dragons were picking up on it, fighting less-than-playfully in the sky and letting out random bursts of fire.

Camp was to be set up a half a mile from Estriam Manor and the town surrounding it, but, for once, they did not stay to set up.  The Warriors’ captains and, of course, the prince would be staying at the manor, Jared included.

The courtyard outside the manor was big enough for Camulus to land there.  He did, much to the surprise and fright of the nobles clustered outside.  There were three groups of them.  Two of the groups were headed by men, surrounded with young women.  Jared assumed those were Lord Estriam and Lord Reichenmore and their respective daughters.  The maidens looked lovely all dressed up in pale silks and satins, but Jared could not help glaring at them.

The third group was entirely different.  It was made up entirely of women, wearing what looked like ceremonial garb, loose beige robes with golden belts.  Their leader clutched a large stone in her arms.  Jared’s stomach tightened.  It was obviously the Queen Egg and her guardians.

In front of him, Jensen dismounted.  The rest of the captains and Jared followed his lead.  His voice was jovial as he greeted the lords, showing no sign of his earlier foul mood.  “Lord Reichenmore.  Lord Estriam, thank you for having us.”

“Our pleasure,” said the larger of the two lords, before throwing a spiteful look at Lord Reichenmore.  “I can assure you that everything has been made perfect for your stay, if that should happen.”

Jensen quirked an eyebrow up, his mouth twisted into a stiff, displeased smile.  “But you rather hope it should not?”  When Lord Estriam blustered, Jensen let out a harsh laugh.  “Do not worry, Lord Estriam.  It is understandable to hope that the Queen Egg will hatch today.  I think most hold that hope.”

“As they should,” Lord Reichenmore interjected.  “You have been alone for too long, my prince.”

The words sounded altogether too similar to the things Jared had whispered to Jensen before they had kissed.  Sure enough, Jensen’s gaze flitted back to Jared, who could not help blushing.  The prince swallowed, and then his eyes jerked away.  “Well, there is no point in delaying anything, is there?  I would not want to keep these lovely ladies waiting.”  He smiled winningly at the lords’ daughters.  “Alona, if you will?”

Alona must have been the name of the girl holding the Queen Dragon Egg.  She moved forward with a genuine smile, curtsying as well as she could when she reached Jensen.  “It is good to see you again, your Highness.”

His smile warmed as he looked at her.  “It is good to see you as well.”  His eyes drifted downwards to the egg.  Carefully, he reached out and stroked it.  Jared’s heart squeezed in his chest as he saw the look of longing on Jensen’s face.  Regardless of how he might proclaim to feel, Jensen could not help but long for his mate.  A mate who was not Jared.

The moment stretched out, and then Camulus huffed out an audible breath from over where he was crouching.  Startled, Jensen jerked his hand away from the egg with a loud gasp.  He shook his head sharply before pasting a smile back on.  “Which lady would like to try first?”

There was a giggling as the girls hurried to get into some semblance of a line.  From his place between Chris and Steve, Jared’s hands curled into fists as girl after girl moved forward to lay their hands against the cold stone.  Something within him sang with joy as their expressions shifted to disappointment when the egg did not so much as crack for them.  When the last girl walked away, Jared let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought Jensen looked relieved as well.  “Thank you for trying, ladies,” he said kindly to the rejected women, and then turned back to the Egg Bearer.  “Thank you, Alona.  I suppose you must go now.”

She bowed her head.  “We continue on to the West and to the houses there.  Perhaps we might find your mate there.”

Jensen nodded absently, brow furrowed.  “I thank you, and give you leave to go.”

With one last curtsy, Alona turned around and began moving back towards her ladies.  Jared kept his eyes on her, even as others began to look at the prince once more, and maybe that was why he was so quick to react when she stumbled.

Time seemed to slow.  He watched her trip over a loose rock in the courtyard.  She tried to stop herself from falling, but the effort loosened her grip on the egg.  He saw it fly from her hands, and by that time he was already moving.  Dashing towards her, he kept his eyes on the egg.  He only just managed to snag it before it hit the ground.

Alona did fall to the ground, her hands smacking against the stone.  Egg safely nestled in his arms, Jared bent down to check on her.  “Are you okay?”  He asked frantically. 

She nodded, pulling herself back up to sit.  Her hands were smeared with red scrapes, but her face held nothing but relief.  “Thank you,” she breathed.  “I cannot imagine what would’ve happened if…”  She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes.  “Thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Jared began to say, even as other people were surrounding them.  And then he heard a sharp crack.  Sucking in a quick breath, he hurriedly looked down at the egg in his arms.  What if it _had_ hit the ground and there was damage?

What he saw was entirely different.  The egg was glowing, shaking.  There were cracks stemming from the top of the egg, splintering down the sides even further with each moment.  “What…” he asked in a rough voice, even though he knew.  He _knew_.

“You,” Alona gasped, and her eyes were wide as she looked at him.  “You’re bonded to the Queen Egg.”

Jared only had time to catch one glance of Jensen’s dumbfounded face before his attention was drawn back to the Egg in his arms. 

And the little dragon head that was sticking out of it.

The dragoness was watching him with a startling clarity.  Her eyes were as dark blue as the sky at night and they followed him with an uncanny intelligence.  Trembling, he raised his hand and smoothed it over the back of her head.  There was a silvery sort of laughter in his head, and then a clear voice; “ _greetings, Jared_.”

“Oh my God,” he breathed as his fingers traced her shining white scales.  There must’ve been a mistake.  There must be something wrong.  He couldn’t be— 

And then he heard Camulus’s voice rumbling in his head.  “ _Welcome, Sirona._ ”

The Queen Dragon blinked her sapphire eyes and tilted back her head to let out her first shriek.


	6. Chapter Five

Jared had heard about the ecstasy of bonding, but he had never thought he was destined to experience it.

He could not concentrate on anything except the dry heat of Sirona in his arms and the even warmer glow of her in his mind.  He had this knowledge of her, this _consciousness_ , that went beyond anything he had ever known before.  She was a part of him, as much as his arm or his leg or… or his spine.  He had no idea how Jensen could _bear_ to spend so much time separated from Camulus, not if it felt like _this_.

Dimly, he was aware he was being moved.  Hands grasped his elbows, pulled him along.  That did not matter.  Not as long as Sirona stayed safe, cradled inside his arms.

It was hard to tell how long the euphoria lasted, but by the time he came to, so to speak, the sun had set in the sky.  Blinking he stared at the large, cave-like room.  He had heard of such rooms before; dragon dens built into manors in case any Warrior came to stay.  Even his childhood home had had one, although it had been so old and rickety that he had never been in it. 

This one was well furnished, made of hardy wood and marble.  Sirona rumbled happily at the sight, and then let out a bright chirp as her eyes lit on one of the other inhabitants of the room.

Camulus was watching them both with obvious joy in his eyes.  Jared fought his initial urge to shield Sirona from sight with his arms.  The dragon had waited years for his mate to hatch; Jared would not deprive him of the sight of her now.  After all, there was no doubt that Sirona and Camulus were meant to be.

Jensen and Jared, on the other hand… Jared wasn’t quite so sure of their own inevitability.

Aside from Camulus, the others in the room obviously had noticed Jared and Sirona emerge from the bonding stupor they had been in.  Jared’s eyes were met with the familiar sight of Jensen pacing with Steve and Chris hovering to the side and Alona beside them.  All four were frowning, although that was too mild a word for the expression on Jensen’s face.  He looked downright furious.

“This was _not_ supposed to happen!” he snapped, picking right back up in whatever conversation they had been having.  “The Queen Egg hatches for someone noble, and—and female!  Jared is neither of the two.  It must be a mistake.”

Alona fretted uselessly with the fabric of her loose gown.  “Perhaps if the Queen had not bonded with him, I could believe that.  But bonding has never been a mistake before.  It cannot be—”

“Perhaps it was because he was holding her.  Maybe that is why they bonded.  Maybe she had begun to hatch after Lord Reichenmore’s daughter touched her and we simply did not notice—”

“Sire.”  Chris’s voice was firm and unyielding.  “You know that is not the case.  There was too much time between the two.  And there has never been a case of a dragon bonding with someone they are not meant for.”

The prince turned on him with a savage growl.  “That does not mean it cannot happen at all!  How else to you explain that—that _peasant boy_ holding the Queen Dragon?”

Jared barely stifled a gasp.  He curled inwards, pulling Sirona in closer, and shook his head a little bit.  In all the time he had known Jensen, which was admittedly not long, he had never treated Jared like anything _lesser,_ like something _beneath_ him.  He had been kind, stood up for him, even acted almost as if Jared was his equal.  Those words, spoken in that cold, sharp voice, slid deep under Jared’s skin.

Sirona let out a whimper of distress also, and Camulus shuffled forward until his snout brushed against Jared’s forehead.  “ _He is just upset_ ,” the dragon said, voice equally sad. “ _He does not like being surprised_.”

“Neither do I,” Jared murmured, running reverent hands over Sirona’s scales.  “But I would not speak about her like that.  Or him.”

Obviously, their moment had not gone unnoticed by the others in the room.  When Jared looked up again, all four of them were staring at him.  Jensen’s face was stone-cold, but Jared thought he saw something in those eyes… until the man turned away again.  “We _cannot_ bring this back to my father.”

“We must,” Alona countered.  She held her hands out beseechingly.  “Your Highness, we must go back to the Capital.  We must speak to Alaunus.  It is from him we will get answers.  There are none to be found here.”

The name jolted something inside Jared.  Alaunus was the eldest of all the dragons in the land.  He was a veritable tome of information about dragons and their traditions.  He was supposed to be almost preternaturally knowledgable.  People said that those who came before him could hide nothing from his eyes, even though he was nearly blind.  Jared shot a frightened glance at Camulus.  If the dragon was as perceptive as was said, then Jared’s secret would be obvious to him.

Camulus nudged him again, snorting a little bit.  “ _Do not worry.  I will protect my mate and her bonded.  You have nothing to fear._ ”

Yes, but would Jensen?  Based upon the disgusted expression on his face, Jared doubted that very much.

Finally, and clearly reluctantly, Jensen nodded.  “You are right, Alona,” he said with firm, cool authority.  “Alaunus will have the answers we need.  We must find out whether there is a way to divine the Queen’s true Rider, and what has caused this to happen, so that it does not happen again.”

Alona opened her mouth, as if to argue, but Steve discreetly elbowed her and she closed her mouth with a sigh.  “Yes, your Highness.”

Jensen nodded tightly.  “We will set out tomorrow, first thing in the morning.  Steve, Alona, you will come with me.  Chris, you will lead the Warriors to the East to join Captain Roche and Captain Manns.  Deal with the bandit problem there, then lead all troops back to the Capitol.  Do you understand me?”

All three bowed or, in Alona’s case, curtsied.  They hovered for a moment, obviously unsure whether they were dismissed or not, before Jensen waved an angry hand.  “Go!”  Sparing only a couple of glances back, the trio sped towards the door, only stopped by Jensen saying, “and Steve, speak to someone about getting Jared his own room.  Have someone come here and escort him there once it has been done.”

Steve bowed once more.  “Yes sire.” And then they were gone.

With just the four of them in the room, the atmosphere was tense.  Jared ducked his head, unable to keep watching Jensen when his attention was not otherwise occupied.  He resumed his petting of Sirona, which she obviously enjoyed.  She rumbled happily under the attention, rolling in his lap so he could scratch her stomach.  As much as she was behaving like a household feline, it did nothing to hide the bright intelligence lurking in those gem-like eyes, or to dim his memory of her whispered voice saying his name.

“Are you going to just ignore me, then?”  Jensen hissed out after a few strained moments.  “Leave me to deal with this wretched mess by myself?”

Jared refused to look up or raise his voice.  He would not give Jensen an excuse to loathe him anymore than he apparently already did.  “I did not think you wanted the advice or help of a lowly peasant boy, sire.”

He could practically hear Jensen bristling.  “Oh, come now, Jared.  I was just stating the truth.  That is what you are!”  He huffed out a loud breath.  “I… I did not mean to offend.  I was simply… exasperated.  I should not have said it.  It is not you I am angry with.”

“Is it not?” Jared asked tonelessly.  “Perhaps you would rather I had let the egg fall.”

“No!”  Scandal was evident in the abrupt shout, and horror.  “No!  I would _never_ wish that.  The egg hatching was a blessing but… it should not have hatched to _you_.”

“Why not?”  Jared asked mulishly, finally raising his head to level his gaze with Jensen’s.  “Sirona obviously thought I was suitable enough.  More so than any of the _noble ladies_ she had been trotted in front of.”

Jensen’s face turned achingly sad. “I am not sure that is why she hatched, Jared.”  He seemed to sense how the words would be taken and shook his head a little bit.  “Not that you are not worthy, Jared.  You have a good heart, and any dragon would admire that, but…”

“But _what_ , your Highness?”  Jared spat.  “But I am too low-born to stand by your side?  Not female enough?”  He leaned towards Jensen, sneering.  “You did not give me the impression that you wanted someone _female_.”

Jensen blanched.  “That’s exactly why,” he choked out, and stumbled away to sink down into one of the many chairs the room had.  He put his head in his hands and took several deep breaths.  His voice was muffled when he spoke next.  “What if that was why?  What if that was why she chose you?”

Confused, Jared pulled back.  “Because you found me attractive?”

“No!”  Jensen threw his arms up in the air, and Jared was shocked to see tears in his eyes.  “What if she only chose you because we had lain together?”  Jared sucked in a quick breath as Jensen continued, “I keep thinking about it; why would she have made an exception from all of tradition for you?  And all I can think about is…”  He licked his lips and shook his head once again, fiercely.  “We should not have done that, Jared.  Not if it has forced the Queen to bond with you like this.”

Jared had no words for that, nothing to refute it with.  All he could say was, “her name is Sirona.”

Jensen blinked at him several times.  “What?”

Swallowing, Jared let his arms loosen, so that more of Sirona could be seen.  “The Queen Dragon.  Her name is Sirona.”  He paused, pressing his lips together, and looked to the side, down at the ground.  It was easier than looking at Jensen’s face.  “I thought you would like to know.”

“I…”  Jensen said.  There was something open about it, something that encouraged Jared to look back up.  For a moment, he felt… hopeful.

A knock came on the door.  “Highness?  I’m ready to escort… Sir Jared to his room.”

“Of course,” Jensen said briskly, and any trace of openness was gone.  He strode to the side of the room and fetched Jared’s pack.  He held it out to Jared and his face was utterly blank as he said, “Be ready to travel first thing tomorrow.”

All Jared could do was nod before scrambling out of the room as fast as he could, pack in one hand and dragon in the other arm.

Despite the plushness of the room he was given, Jared tossed and turned most of the night.  It wasn’t until Sirona let out a fiery huff and waddled over to curl by his side that he finally fell asleep.

It felt like Jared had barely fallen asleep before he was being woken up and hustled outside to the courtyard.  The sun was barely peeking over the horizon and he blinked blearily at it while the others bustled around him, loading their belongings into the bags hanging off Camulus and Steve’s dragon, Grannus’s, elaborate saddles. 

Jared found himself naturally gravitating towards Camulus and found himself soon standing by the dragon’s head.  The dragon huffed at him in greeting, before carefully bumping his nose against Sirona’s.  “ _Greetings, little one_.”

“Is it strange for you?”  Jared blurted out.  When Camulus swung his bright green eyes his way, he nodded down towards Sirona. “She’s so small now.  But someday, the two of you are going to be…”  With Sirona in his arms he had no way to gesture, so he simply shrugged instead.  “It must be hard to imagine.”

Camulus looked at him for a moment, before growling out a laugh.  “ _We are not limited like you humans are to what is directly in front of us.  I see Sirona as she is now, and I see her as she will be.  It is not strange at all._ ”

Jared nodded like that made any sense, but could not help sending a wistful glance at Jensen.  The prince was a bright, furious presence in the light of the rising sun, yelling orders every which way and looking like command came to him easily.  If only he and Jensen could see the same way dragons could, then there would be none of this anger and disbelief.

Gently, Camulus butted his head against Jared’s shoulder.  Jared still stumbled a bit with the impact.  “ _You realize that your secret is likely to come out now.  Gender is a matter of preference, but the Queen Dragon’s Rider is_ always _noble._ ”

Jared swallowed, and then nodded shortly.  “When I have a moment, I will try to tell Jensen.  He deserves to know first.”

Camulus shifted a bit where he stood, his scales sliding and shifting with his movements.  “ _You will be flying with us today.  Perhaps that would be a good time to speak to my Rider.  And I will also be there._ ”

“To what?  Ensure that the prince does not throw me off your back for merely suggesting I am nobility?”  Jared snapped, then glanced around quickly, to ensure no one else had heard.

The dragon snorted.  _“To affirm what you say.  He will believe you more readily if I tell him it is so._ ”

Jared hesitated, but then he shifted closer so that he brushed up against the dragon’s neck.  “Won’t he be angry with you?  For keeping this from him?”

He could hear the shrug in Camulus’s voice.  “ _Perhaps.  But I do not find that I care much at the moment.  I am rather upset with him myself at the moment._ ”

“Why?” Jared asked, frowning.  “Did he say—or do—something last night?”

“ _No,_ ” Camulus replied, and the scales around those emerald eyes crinkled in a way that made Jared think the dragon was smiling.  “ _But he did dismiss his mate and the Rider of my mate.  I find that is enough to be upset about._ ”

A blush ran up Jared’s cheeks.  “You don’t have to… not for me.  It is not that important,”  he whispered. 

“ _It was important enough to upset you, was it not?_ ”  Camulus’s eyes were unblinking.  “ _He should not have treated his own mate in such a manner.  Nor should Sirona have been treated so callously in her first hours.  No, we shall have words, my Rider and I, before this is through._ ”

“Jared!”  Jared jerked around, only to see Jensen storming towards him, face cold and harsh.  “What are you doing over here?  You are wasting time!  You must be strapped onto to Camulus saddle before we can depart.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared said, but Jensen was already spinning away from him, leaving behind Steve.  Jared stared after the prince for a moment, before sighing and turning to the Field Marshall.  “Will you strap me in?”

Steve smiled, just as kindly as always, and Jared was grateful for it.  “It would be a pleasure.”

There were all sorts of straps and harnesses attached to Camulus’s saddle.  Getting up onto the dragon’s back had been a challenge in and of itself, but getting buckled in took ten times longer.  Every time Jared thought he could not be more secure, Steve brought out another binding.  He was rather envious of Sirona, who was chirping happily from her seat on the pommel.  Steve had looked at him like he was crazy when he had suggested strapping her in as well.  “Dragons are natural creatures of the air,” Steve had said slowly, as if Jared was missing something fundamental.  “She will not fall.” 

Despite Steve’s reassurances, Jared decided to keep a careful eye on her.  It was one thing for her to be wandering all over Camulus’s saddle whilst they were still on the ground.  It was another entirely for her to do so in the air. 

Finally, both dragons were completely ready to go, except for their Riders.  Jared clutched Sirona closer nervously as Jensen elegantly ascended into the saddle.  He sat behind Jared, right up against his skin, and grunted with annoyance at how slow the servants were to strap him in.  Jared noticed that he had considerably fewer straps than Jared did, but he supposed that was how it would be.  In Jensen’s eyes, he was a Rider and Jared was not.

Eventually, the servants backed away.  Jared stiffened as Jensen’s arms came in around him.  “Relax,” Jensen growled in his ear, and the proximity made Jared color.  “We need to hold onto the pommel when Camulus takes off.”

“Oh,” Jared said, and quickly grabbed onto the raised, molded leather.  Sirona was content to settle between his legs, and he could feel her shivering with anticipation as Camulus began to beat his wings against the air in warning.

And then he gave one mighty push and they were airborne.

“Oh my God!”  Jared screeched, and he wasn’t sure if it was from wonder or terror.  There was no feeling like it, nothing like rising into the sky while seated on a dragon’s back.  He could not keep his eyes open; he could not keep them shut.  The ground whirled below them, and the clouds were spinning above them.  Sirona’s laughter chimed joyously in his head as they rose farther and farther up, until he was quite sure he never wanted to come down again.

Forgetting momentarily about all earthly troubles, he yelled back at Jensen, “how come all the Riders do not travel like this?  It is glorious!”

It was only when silence radiated from behind him that he remembered.  Suddenly, flying was not quite so wonderful anymore.

After some length of time, Jensen bit out, “in order to travel with the supplies we need to, solely relying on dragons is simply not feasible.  Besides, it takes a while for a dragon to be large enough to fly, and with our non-Rider servants as well, the weight load would be too heavy for most of our dragons.”

“I see,” Jared replied, if only not to be rude.  He focused on Sirona instead of the man behind him; now that they were up in the air, she seemed more than content to nestle between his legs and make occasional happy sounds.  She had even whistled once.

He had not heard her voice in his head since her hatching, and that made him worried enough that he dared to speak to Jensen once more.  “When will she begin speaking more often in my mind?”

A ripple went through Jensen’s body behind him, but Jared could not tell of what.  “She has spoken to you?”

Jared nodded, throat a little clogged.  “Once.  When she hatched,” he informed Jensen, then swallowed.  “She said my name.”

He had spoken quietly enough that he thought Jensen would not hear, but the prince made a little noise of shock and shifted closer.  “She knew your name when she hatched?”

“Yes,” Jared said, and endeavored to sound steady and unconcerned.  “Does that mean anything?”

Jensen grunted, but gave no further answer.  Still, Jared could almost hear his mind running a mile a minute behind him.  It was Camulus who gave Jared his answer instead.  “ _While all dragons are born knowing the language of the mind, it takes a while for the bond to strengthen enough to allow for proper communication.  Seeing as you have already heard her once, and assuming you can feel what she is feeling, then is likely that you’ll be able to hear her consistently in a few days._ ”

Smiling at that, Jared ducked down to press a kiss to the top of Sirona’s head.  “I look forward to hearing you,” he whispered to her.  She turned her face up to him with a series of happy, chirping noises, and nuzzled against his jaw.  He laughed softly at her small affections and scratched gently at the base of her neck, where he had noticed her scratching earlier.  It only took a few scratches for her to settle down, stretching out her neck and obviously relishing the special treatment.

Once again, it was Jensen who broke the happy moment.  “You know that just because you heard her doesn’t mean that you’re her true Rider, right?”

Jared’s teeth snapped together, and all the muscles in his back tensed.  Sirona went from relaxed and carefree to hissing in one moment.  “Yes,” he bit out, even when Sirona growled.  “I understand fully well that dragons can communicate beyond their Rider.”  Feeling especially daring, he did not even bother to add a ‘your Highness’ to the end of his sentence.

Jensen seemed to realize how close Jared was to resorting to physical violence, because his next words were laden with discomfort.  “Yes, well.  I just don’t want you to be disappointed, when it turns out you aren’t her true Rider.”

Sirona let out an even louder hiss, and Jared straightened his spine.  He did not bother trying to turn back to look at Jensen.  Instead, he simply raised his voice and said, as clear as he could, “I won’t be disappointed.”

“Oh?” Jensen replied, and he sounded oddly… let down?

Shaking his head, Jared allowed himself a private smile.  “I won’t be disappointed because I _know_ I am her true Rider.”

Jensen let out a long groan.  “Jared—”

“No!”  Jared didn’t bother letting him finish.  “You have only known me for a few days, Jensen.  You cannot think to know everything about me.  Nor I you, for that matter.  That much has been made _quite_ clear.”

Jensen tried to suppress it, but Jared felt the man flinch.  “Is that so?” Jensen said, and his voice was low and dangerous.  Jared regretted goading him into attack.  He could not unveil his secret in the face of anger.  “Then tell me, _Jared_ , what makes you so special that you would defy all the rules?”

“I am not defying any rules,” Jared said evenly.  He tried to seem unmoved, and perhaps the only reason he succeeded was because he was not looking at Jensen.  Still, Sirona squirmed closer, trying to soothe him with gentle cooing.

“Really?”  Jensen’s voice was filled with skepticism.  “Then you have a noble cunt hiding under those trousers, Jared?  Because I do not remember there being one.”

Grinding his teeth together, Jared shook his head in disappointment.  “Perhaps you should talk to your dragon before making assumptions.  Camulus told me that gender is variable when it comes to the Queen Dragon Rider.  It is a matter of the King Dragon Rider’s preference.”

All of the air went out of Jensen in a rush. “Camulus?” he asked, voice wavering in shock.  “Is that… is that true?”

“ _Yes_.”  Camulus answered, but did not elaborate.

In front of Jared, Jensen’s hands balled into fists.  “Then why did you not tell me this?  Why would you keep this from me?”

“ _Perhaps because you did not wish to listen_.” While the dragon’s words were mild, the tone in which he spoke them was anything but.  Once again, Jared felt Jensen’s body flinch away from him.

“This whole time…”  Jensen’s breath came hot and frantic against his neck.  “We have only been looking at noble _females_ , when we should have been testing males as well.  Maybe that is why my mate has gone undiscovered this long and why Sirona has resorted to—”

“ _No_.”  This time it was Camulus who interrupted, and Jensen fell silent eerily fast.  “ _Listen to what Jared is saying this time, and leave your stupid prejudices aside._ ”  His words were clearly directed to Jared when he said, “ _You must tell him now, young one.  We are almost to the palace._ ”

Shaking, Jared drew in a deep breath.  “Jensen,” he dared to say, and heard the prince draw in a sharp breath at the familiar title.  “There is something I have not told you…”

“What?”  For the first time since Sirona’s egg had hatched for him, Jared felt like Jensen was truly listening to him, just as desperate to understand as Jared was to speak.

He licked his lips, closed his eyes, and dared himself to speak.  Jensen could not kill him.  Jensen was his mate and had saved his life once before.  This secret would be safe with him.  “The Padalecki family,” he said, and felt Jensen tense behind him.  “Everyone thinks that they were killed by marauders, who arrived shortly after the King left.  It isn’t true.  The King… your father had them all massacred in their house by his own soldiers.”

Jared doubted Jensen was even breathing.  At last, he spoke.  “How do you know that?”  Jensen’s voice was trembling just as hard as his.  “Jared, how do you know that?”

Jared put his hands on Sirona’s scales and drew strength from her.  “Because I was there,” he said, and drew in a deep breath.  “Because I was a mischievous child who just wanted to meet the prince and his dragon, so I snuck into his room.  And the prince told me to hide in a hidden hole in the wall and not come out until the stone he gave me glowed.  And because I wanted to be just like him, I did as he said.”

There was a vast silence, fraught with so many years and memories that Jared could barely stand it.  Then, tentative hands came to rest on his waist instead of keeping their tight hold on the pommel.  “Jared,” Jensen said, awe and disbelief ringing in his voice.  “Jared of Padalecki.  How…”   Jensen made a choked sound and his forehead came to rest against Jared’s back.  “I never forgot,” he gasped out, and tears flooded Jared’s eyes.

“I know,” he murmured, and smiled wetly down at Sirona.  “Neither did I.”

It took a couple of minutes for them both to get their breathing under control.  When they finally did, Jensen lifted his head up and clasped Jared tighter to him.  “I don’t understand,” he said blankly.  “Why did you not tell me as soon as we met?  Why _hide_ this from me?  I would’ve been… I would’ve been so _relieved_.  I thought you’d been found.  I thought you’d _died_.”

Jared shook his head, a rush of relief running through him that Jensen had not been there to witness his family’s massacre.  “No.  My old governess heard something, I guess, and came back.  She found me, and we left that evening as fast as we could.  We thought that if someone discovered I was still alive…”  He gulped, bile rising in his throat.  “They obviously didn’t care about killing children in cold blood.  We were afraid they’d come back for me.”

Jensen’s fingers bit into his waist.  “Your sister,” he said bleakly.  When Jared nodded, Jensen let out a sad, shaky little sigh.  “I’m sorry, Jared.”

There was nothing to be said to that.

The castle was in sight, all rising towers and spirals of grey stone.  The flag of Acklesland flew everywhere, gold and black patterning the landscape.  Jared could see the hordes of people below him swarming in the capital city.  The armored guards were raising their arms, waving gleaming welcomes to their prince.  Jared watched it all impassively, too rattled to feel much. 

“Will you tell your father?” He whispered, and felt Jensen hesitate.

“I don’t know,” he answered, and then Camulus was swooping downwards to land.


	7. Chapter Six

Jared had never seen so many people.  The bustle of his old village and the Warriors’ camp was nothing compared to the flooding hordes of the capital.  Camulus and Steve’s dragon had barely landed in the palace courtyard before they were rushed by an assortment of knights, servants, and nobles.  Despite the frenzy, there was a kind of order to it.  The servants went right to work unbuckling them from the saddle’s ties, while the knights took up station around the prince, instantly back to guarding him.  Several of the nobles were babbling at Jensen, but he seemed to be ignoring them. 

As soon as he could, Jared shifted around so he could see Jensen’s face for the first time in hours.  “Sire, what should I—”

Jensen’s hand clamped down on his wrist, and his green eyes were intense as they stared him down.  “Speak as little as possible, and stay by my side.  Do not let _anyone_ take Sirona from you, regardless of what they say their rank is.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sire,” Jared breathed, and then he was being helped down from Camulus’s back. 

He resisted the urge to cling to Jensen’s arm as the prince began to wade through the crowds.  Even though they made room for Jensen, Jared struggled to stay right behind him, and was relieved when Steve cut in to help him, sternly glaring at anyone who tried to block Jared’s path.  A couple of the nobles made noises of offense, but Jared kept his head down and hurried after Jensen.

He was so focused on following Jensen that he paid no attention to where he was going.  All Jared noticed was that cobblestone shifted into stone steps, which then shifted into polished marble.  When he looked up, his mouth fell open.  Despite having never been there before, he knew exactly where he was.  He was in the Great Hall of the Royal Palace.

As a noble, he had lived the first half of his life in luxury.  He remembered splendor and beauty.  Unlike most commoners, he knew what silk felt like and how it tasted to eat the finest meat.  A library was more than a myth to him, and clothes more than just a means of covering himself.  Despite all he had seen before, he had never seen anything like this.

While the outside of the castle was the plain grey stone of most estates, the inside was an entirely different matter.  The tiles beneath his feet were black and gold interlaced, so rich looking that Jared was almost afraid to move.  Tapestries and banners hung over all the walls, huge creations of art documenting the expansive history of Acklesland through panels of action and landscape.  Jared saw his own family crest woven into one of the banners and yearned to touch it.  It was only Steve’s presence by his side that kept him on his course.

All the surrounding finery was nothing compared to the elaborate throne.  Made from the same black and golden stone, it had been intricately worked so that it appeared that a thousand hands were reaching up from its base to grasp whoever was seated there.  The top half of the seat blew golden rock outwards, so that it seemed like there was sun behind it, or like the chair itself had a lion’s mane.  Even that mane was carefully made, so one could see the strands tangling and weaving together.

Compared to the glamour of the throne, the man who was seated in it seemed quite plain.  His face was nowhere as finely worked, and lines of age and bitterness ran over his skin.  His formerly brown hair had retreated into his scalp and thinned so that there was barely a dusting left.  The only thing of any note was the ridged golden crown on his head.

Jared had tried for years to remember King Alvard.  He had met him, had kissed his hand and been seated at the same table as him.   However, he had been so fixated on Jensen that he only had the vaguest recollection of worn hands when it came to the King.  Upon seeing him once more, Jared finally understood how he could have utterly forgotten the man.  How anyone could recall such a featureless, dull man when faced with the glory that was his son was beyond Jared’s understanding.  In the Great Hall, Jensen seemed to glow, even dressed in plain traveling garb, while the King almost melted into the background.

It was hard to imagine such a feeble, tedious-looking man ordering the slaughter of an entire family, but, as Jared well knew, looks were deceiving. 

The flocks of nobility parted as Jensen strode towards the throne.  Jared let himself fall a little further behind, clutching Sirona in his arms and sticking to Steve’s side.  He saw Alona doing much the same, eyes wide at the grand sight.  It was quite likely that she, like him, had never been to the palace before.  The Queen Dragon Guardians were selected from daughters of yeomen or gentry, not nobility; she would never have had an occasion to see such splendor before.

Finally, they came to a stop directly in front of the throne’s dais and Jared’s attention snapped back to the King.  Jensen gracefully fell to one knee before the King.  Jared hastened to follow his lead, still slightly behind Jensen.  “My Lord Father,” Jensen said, eyes carefully trained on the floor.

There was a rustling of robes and then a dry voice rang out, “rise.”  With a muscle memory Jared didn’t know he had, he eased up out of his stance the exact way he had been taught as a child.  Sucking in a quick breath, he glanced around to make sure no one had seen.  The only person looking at him was Steve, whose brows were drawn in.   Jared quickly shifted his eyes away. 

The King descended from his throne.  His smile was brittle as he cupped Jensen’s face in his hands.  “My son,” he said, “What brings you back to me so soon?”

Jared watched Jensen’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.  “Your Majesty, I have news of utmost importance to the kingdom.”  He paused, letting the words resonate through the crowd.  “The Queen Egg has hatched.”

There was a rush of murmuring and whispering from every side.  Jared’s shoulders hunched inwards and he ducked his head.  Their eyes were not on him, but he felt like they were.  He knew they would be soon enough.

A bemused smile stayed frozen on the King’s face.  “Is that so?” he asked.  “Then why do I not see your lovely fiancée here before me?  You have not left her behind, have you?”

Jensen squared his shoulders. “No, I have not.  _He_ travelled from Lord Estriam’s Manor with me.  I would not have left him behind.”

Everything even slightly resembling amusement fell from the King’s face.  “He?” he asked sharply.  “What are you saying to me, son?”

Although Jensen’s face would have looked firm and unyielding to anyone else, Jared could see the cracks in his confidence.  He only hoped the King could not.  “I mean to say that the Queen Egg did not hatch for a woman, but for a man.”  

The crowd’s voices rose with agitated murmuring.  Jensen raised his voice over them.  “We were just as shocked as you.  But the dragons have made it clear to us that this is not something unnatural, but is in fact just as likely as the Egg hatching for a woman.”  Jared noticed he left out the part about the preference of the King Dragon Rider, which was probably wise.  The court did not need to know that their prince preferred men over women.  When the King continued to look unconvinced, Jensen lowered his voice slightly to say, “you may ask Alaunus if you have doubt in my words.”

It took a second, but the King recovered himself, pasting on his regal smile once more. “What unexpected news.”  He sounded neither pleased nor displeased, but his eyes were cold as they lit on Jared.  “I suppose this boy is your fiancé then.”  When Jensen nodded cautiously, the King continued, “I do not recall him being a son of either Lord Estriam or Lord Reichenmore.”

“That is because he is not.”  Jensen’s hand slid to the small of Jared’s back, pulling him forward so he was on level with the prince and his father.  “Jared was previously my manservant.”

If Jared thought the court’s whispers had been loud before, they were nothing after that revelation.  The King’s eyebrows flew high, his mouth twisting into a savage frown.  “You mean to say,” he began dangerously, voice nearly a growl, “that the boy is a _commoner_?”

“No,” Jensen answered firmly, and the surrounding nobles quieted, probably so they could better hear his words.  “I mean to say that Jared has been forced to _live_ as a commoner.  I myself had no knowledge of his true bloodline until very recently, when he finally felt he could trust me enough to tell me the truth.  Before, I had thought him simply exceptional for a peasant, but I had no idea of just how blue his blood was.”

“Oh?”  King Alvard’s gaze was speculative this time as he glanced at Jared once more.  “Then tell us, son, about this Jared’s true birth.”

Jensen’s fingers dug into Jared’s back.  “I will beg that you do not force me to reveal that information, your Majesty.  Not yet.”  When his father’s face began to harden again, Jensen spoke hurriedly, but no less elegantly.  “Jared did not live as a commoner for the many past years for no reason, my Lord Father.  He comes from an old and regal bloodline, and there are those within this very room that may wish to cause him harm if they knew the truth of his parentage.  I ask that we be allowed to keep this one secret until we are wed, so his enemies may not rise against him without rising against the crown.”

Jared stared determinedly at the floor.  He could not look up for fear of giving away Jensen’s half-truth with his expression.  He had never expected for Jensen to lie quite so _truthfully_ , and to the King himself.  Sirona’s scales rasped against his neck as she pushed her head into the hollow of his neck.

But Jared could not keep his gaze averted when the King spoke directly to him. “And you, boy.  Lord Jared, I suppose.”  Jared jerked his head up and met the eyes of the man who had killed his family.  His stomach churned.  He was so _close_.  In mere _steps_ , he could be within stabbing distance of the King.  Instead, though, he was forced into politeness and subservience.  “Is this the truth?  Does fear for your life cause you to conceal your identity?”

Wetting his dry lips, Jared nodded.  It was only when Jensen pinched him lightly that he realized that he would have to answer verbally.  “Yes, your Majesty,” he said, and reminded himself of the regal accent he had once cultivated.  The words were polished enough sounding that Jensen stiffened beside him.  “Prince Jensen speaks the truth.  While I wish we could be open and honest with all those here, especially your glorious self, I fear it would only lead to my death.”

Inwardly, Jared felt a flush of pride.  It may have been ten years, but he could still remember how to speak regally just as well as he had when he was eight. 

King Alvard seemed reassured by Jared’s own little speech, although none the happier for it.  “Well then,” he said, and his words were weighed with a great deal of promise, “I would not want to see my future son-in-law in danger.  You have my leave to keep this secret only until you are wed.”  With that, the King clapped his hands together.  “This is a great day for our kingdom!  The wedding must commence as soon as possible.  And you and I, my son, have much to discuss.”  He grasped Jensen’s shoulder firmly, but the look in his eyes was anything but warm.

Jensen bowed lightly once more and Jared quickly mimicked him.  “I am grateful for your enthusiasm and understanding, Father.  Nothing could please me more than your support and grace in this matter.”  He paused, grimacing a little before adding with what Jared could tell was false levity.  “And although I most desire a discussion with you, I am afraid my companions and I are weary and worn from travel.  With your leave, we will settle into our rooms, bathe, and freshen ourselves before imposing on you further.”

From the slight sneer on the King’s lips, it was not what he wished at all.  Still, he laughed shortly and said, “of course!  Forgive me, my son, for my delight at seeing you has overwhelmed my sense.  By all means, make yourselves comfortable in your rooms.  I will look forward to dining with you, and your fiancé, privately tonight.” 

With that last, dreadful statement, the King dismissed them with a wave of his hand.  Jared was overjoyed when Jensen pulled him into a bow before leading him quickly out of the Great Hall.

Steve and Alona caught up with them within moments as they sped through the halls.  Jared had no time to take in anything of the surrounding scenery as they moved by.  “What was that?”  Steve hissed, “Sire, you told us nothing of Jared’s supposed bloodline—”

“New information has come to light, Steve,” Jensen cut him off.  “And it is in your best interest if you never say anything about Jared’s status as my mate ever having been in doubt.  You too, Alona.”  Jensen did not even have to look at them for the power of his words to be felt.  “I trust your discretion in this matter.  The smallest doubt of Jared’s noble bloodline could lead to disaster.”

“Of course, your Highness,” Alona murmured.  “You have our word that this will remain between us.”

Jensen sighed, and for the first time since they had entered court, Jared saw just how exhausted and overwhelmed he was.  “I thank you,” he answered formally.  “Now go to your rooms and rest.  I will need your support in the days to come.”

Like the good subjects they were, Alona and Steve nodded once and then let Jensen pull Jared farther and farther away.  It was only when they were in a hall empty of anyone else that Jared dared speak.  “Where are we going?”

Jensen’s hand tightened around his wrist.  “Next to my rooms, there has always been a suite of rooms meant for my future wife.  I suppose they are yours now.”

Jared’s breath caught in his chest.  “Then you believe me now?  That I am Sirona’s true Rider?”

“I would not have said what I said to my father if I did not.”  Jensen’s tone was slightly regretful, but his speed did not waver.  “The reason I was so… shaken when Sirona first hatched for you was simply because it should have been impossible.  I could not make sense of it, and that... distressed me.  Now that I understand, I can accept it.”

Jared did not think Jensen looked particularly accepting, but he was wise enough to keep his mouth shut.

When they finally arrived at Jensen’s rooms, there was all sorts of activity going on.  Outside, several guards were stationed, and inside, maids were bustling about readying things.    Upon seeing Jensen, the maids curtsied frantically.  One of them smiled without showing her teeth.  “I’m so sorry, your Highness, but we didn’t have any advance warning to ready your rooms, or your… fiancé's!  We’re just dealing with that now—”

Jensen waved a dismissive hand.  “Take care of Lord Jared’s rooms first.  Then come back to mine.” 

In a flurry, all the women exited the rooms, and Jensen closed the door soundly behind them.  Outside, Jared knew, the guards were still stationed, but inside the rooms, it was just the three of them.  Slowly, he relaxed, sneaking glances at the room around him.

It was clear that Jensen had not lived here for years.  It was still the room of a boy, not a man.  Despite the maidservants’ quick attempts to tidy it, pieces of Jensen’s adolescence peeked out of corners and half-open closet doors.  There was a training sword and there a book on calligraphy lying on the ground near the wardrobe.  Jared even thought he saw a book of bawdy images mostly shoved under the bed.  The Jensen he knew, with his mostly-neat tent and military discipline, seemed far removed from the youthful boy this room had housed.

Jensen’s face twisted up with mild disgust as he nudged a shirt that had fallen to the floor.  It was far too small to even dream of stretching over Jensen’s torso.  “One would think they would’ve gotten rid of this junk by now.”

Jared hovered in the middle of the room, not sure what he was supposed to do.  Sirona’s head was bobbing about, her eyes devouring the mess on the floor.  She wanted to get down and explore, so Jared lowered into a crouch and released her, much as he was loath to let her go.  He eyed a pair of green and gold slippers, obviously made for a child.  “Perhaps they were too sentimental to let it go,” he suggested, before rising to stand once more.

All he got was a snort in reply.  Jensen crossed his arms and kicked the shirt aside.  “Sentimentality is not a common trait in my family, Jared.”  He sighed, running a hand through his hair.  “This is not going to end well.”

Jared didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know what Jensen was referring to.  “That depends on how we handle it, I suppose.”  Sirona bumbled about on the floor, squeaking as she discovered things.  She waddled back to Jared with a few sheaves of paper between her jaws, and he laughed gently before taking them.  He fiddled with them idly as he spoke.  “If we pretend that I don’t know about… what happened, then surely your father won’t act against me—”

Spinning around, Jensen caught him with a shocked glare.  “You want to reveal who you actually are?”

Jared wet his lower lip with his tongue, and some part of him was satisfied by the way Jensen followed the movement.  “It makes sense.  The dragons… they know.  They’ll be able to confirm it.  They might not if we lied.”  He paused, and Jensen nodded reluctantly, which gave him enough courage to continue speaking.  “It isn’t as if the King has any reason to want _me_ dead specifically, unless I know something.” 

Jensen stepped slightly closer to him, green eyes wary.  “And… you would be fine with that?  I mean, he…”  He didn’t bother finishing the sentence, instead abruptly saying, “I did not have time to think about the implications of bringing you here, in front of him, until afterwards.  I understand that it must be incredibly hard for you.”  Jensen’s expression was pained, as if the words hurt him, but his voice was soft and honest.

Nodding, Jared refrained from saying anything.  After all, what _could_ he say?  He wanted the King dead; he wanted him to pay for killing his family.  Currently, he was not strong enough, or wily enough, or connected enough to pull off such a coup.  And while Jensen might not support his father’s decisions, he would still be against Jared’s plotting.  He needed to ensure his own safety before he could even think about the King, much less what he planned to do about him.

“ _We will wait_ ,” whispered a faint voice in his mind, and Jared’s mouth fell open when he saw Sirona’s eyes were pinned on him, clear and knowing. 

“Jared?” Jensen asked with concern, but Jared just shook his head in wonder before dropping to his knees and scooping Sirona up into his arms.

She rubbed her head against his cheek affectionately, and a few more words weaseled their way into his mind.  “ _We will wait, and bide our time.  But we will not let him go unpunished, my Jared._ ”

“Jared?” Jensen asked again, hand coming down to rest on his shoulder.  “Is there something wrong with Sirona?”

Jared shook his head once more, but managed to say, “no.  It is just… she spoke to me.”  Blinking tears out of his eyes, he beamed up at Jensen.  “I know it has only been a day… but I was afraid that she would never speak to me because I _wasn’t_ her true Rider.”

“Jared…”  This time Jensen’s voice was sympathetic as he crouched down at his side.  “Every new Rider worries about this, and I did not make things any easier with what I said to you.  I’m sorry.”

Jared laughed wetly, a little bewildered by just how emotional he felt over the whole scene.  “My dragon speaks and the prince apologizes to me.  I must admit I don’t know quite what to do.”

Jensen’s hand ran down his back soothingly.  “For now, you should get some rest.  You can take a nap here in my bed, if you wish to.  I’ll wake you up in an hour or so.  We’re having dinner with my father and my sister tonight, so you’ll need all the rest you can get.”

Jared let himself be moved and tucked into bed.  Sirona curled up against his chest, and the blankets enveloped him in warmth.  He even thought, as he was drifting off, that someone laid a light kiss on his brow, but it could just as well have been a dream.

It was a good thing that Jensen had made him rest, because when he woke up, everything was one frantic blur. 

Two seamstresses pulled frantically at the too-high hem of the dark hose they had acquired for Jared from somewhere.  Whoever had previously worn the hose had been at least four inches shorter.  There was more fussing over the green and gold tunic they had put on him, which was made for a much wider man.  Overall, Jared was pretty sure that he looked worse in formal clothing than he did in his basic trousers and white tunic, but he did not even bother suggesting that he change back into those.

Sirona snorted distastefully at what she said was “ _human ornamentation_ ” and suggested he attend the dinner naked.  Jared did not bother mentioning that idea either.  He did consider it pretty seriously, though, when it was over an hour later and he was still being used as a human pincushion for over six women.  Sirona was not helping matters by perching on Jensen’s bed and laughing at him whenever the women did something particularly amusing, like accidentally grabbing his ass.

When Jensen finally returned to rescue him, he was already dressed.  Jared had to try his best not to gape in awe.  Where Jared looked like the court jester, Jensen looked like… well, exactly what he was; a prince.  He wore a gold and green tunic as well, and black hose, but what looked ridiculous on Jared looked stunning on him.  The black fabric of his hose clung to every inch of those strong calves and thighs.  The green velvet tunic was elaborately embroidered with spiraling golden thread in the shape of soaring dragons, and it strained across his broad shoulders.  Set just above his hips was a golden belt bedecked with emeralds and diamonds, and from it hung his sword.  To top it all off, a golden circlet sat on his head. 

Jared had seen Jensen dressed up in his formal clothing once before, but that had been when they both were children.  Now, they were grown, and Jensen was a man, not a boy, and he looked like one.  Jared felt a strong surge of arousal and blushed down to the roots of his hair.

“Don’t move!” One of the seamstresses said, and bravely smacked Jared on the arm. 

On seeing that, Jensen’s lips quirked up into a slight smirk.  His eyes darted over Jared’s clothing, and Jared blushed even harder when those same eyes darkened with something he might have taken as desire.  Then Jensen’s eyes returned to Jared’s face, and he smiled ruefully.  “I am sorry about the clothes.  My old things were the only ones available at such short notice.  I hope you are not too uncomfortable.”

“No,” Jared murmured, and ducked his head.  “Although you are very…”  He bit his lip, unsure about whether he should continue.  He had teased Jensen a bit before, but now he did not know if he was permitted to do so.

“Very?”  Jensen prompted him, and there was a warmth in his tone that made Jared brave enough to continue.

“Very short, your Highness.”  One of the women beside him gasped loudly, eyes opening wide.  Jensen merely laughed, tilting his head back so that Jared had a prime view of that long, graceful throat.  He swallowed, trying to push back his lust.  Sirona snickered in his head.

Jensen’s eyes very nearly twinkled as he turned his gaze back to Jared.  “Or perhaps you are simply unreasonably tall, Lord Jared.  The peasants obviously have fed you something to make you grow unnaturally.”

Jared arched an eyebrow, ridiculously happy that Jensen was playing along and that the mood between them had lightened.  “So you are blaming peasants now, Highness?  I would have thought such things were beneath you.”

He nearly regretted even saying that when Jensen took a step closer and his voice took on a distinctly flirtatious tone.  “I think you will find, Lord Jared, that there is not much that is _beneath_ me.”  As if the point was not already clear enough, his eyes flickered downward to Jared’s crotch.

If Jared had been red before, it was nothing compared to how hot he blushed after hearing Jensen’s words.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two of the women leering at each other, obviously enjoying overhearing what they thought of as lovers’ banter.  When Jared’s eyes flew to Jensen again, he saw Jensen had noticed as well, and his stomach sank.  So _that_ was why Jensen had acted so warm towards him after two days of coldness; he was merely putting on a show.

As if he could sense that Jared had caught on, Jensen shifted his attention.  “Ladies,” he said gently, “I’m afraid you must finish up your work.  Lord Jared and I are due to attend the King in only a few minutes now.”

There were a few distraught little sighs, but the seamstresses backed away from Jared readily enough.  As they were filing out the door, one of them looked back and winked lewdly at Jared, making him color all over again.

The cool fingers against his cheek shocked him, and he drew back instinctively.  Jensen looked a little surprised himself, like he had not quite meant to touch Jared.  He glanced down at his fingers.  “I was just wondering if your skin felt as heated as it looked when it turned that color.”

Sirona let out a little huff from the bed, and Jared tensed.  “You don’t have to flirt anymore,” he said stiffly, fixing his tunic as best he could.  “They’re gone.  No one will hear if you act like you can’t stand me.”

“Jared…”  Jensen let out a long, weary sigh, head dipping downwards as he rubbed his forehead.  “I thought we dealt with this before,” he said softly.  “I thought you accepted that I feltâ€¦” Pausing, he shifted his feet a little, hanging his head like a puppy that had been yelled at. “That I felt badly for how I treated you.  I thought that we were moving beyond that now.”  There was hope in his eyes as he said the last words.  Hope that they _could_ move on, Jared assumed.

Nerves made Jared twist the fabric of his tunic in his hands, scrunching it together.  “You have never flirted with me before.”

Jensen peered up at him through his eyelashes, smiling softly.  “Jared,” he said, tone warm and fond, “before we were barely even lovers.  Now… you’re my fiancé.” 

Jared’s breath caught in his throat at the title.  He had not really had time to process that, not with the doubts over his legitimacy and the flurry of court.  But _he_ was the one Jensen would be spending the rest of his life with; _he_ was the one Jensen was going to marry.  “I am, aren’t I?” he said dazedly, and Jensen chuckled a bit.  “Does that mean I’m going to be a princess?”

To that, Jensen snorted.  “No, Jared.  You’ll be Prince Consort, just as you will when I become King.  Besides…” he added, and once more his eyes mapped out Jared’s body like it was an undiscovered land, “I doubt anyone will mistake you for a princess.”

“Are you saying I’m not pretty enough?”  Playfully, Jared pouted his lips, sticking his hip out to the side as he had seen the peasant women do.  “Am I not woman enough for you, Jensen?” 

The daring usage of the prince’s name worked out well, because a light pink flush lit up Jensen’s face.  Grinning like a boy, he put his hands on Jared’s hips, straightening them out, and tilted his head up to press a light kiss on his still-puckered lips.  He only drew away an inch before saying, “I think you’re all the woman I’ll ever require, Jared.”

For something that had started out as a joke, Jared found that strangely romantic.  His heart was still fluttering when Jensen took his hand and drew him out into the hallway to lead him to dinner.


	8. Chapter Seven

It was the first time since Sirona had hatched that Jared had gone anywhere without her.  He caught himself glancing back numerous times as Jensen led him through the castle to the King’s personal dining room.  It was only the continued touch of Sirona’s mind on his own that kept him from running back and wrapping her in his arms.

“I wonder if this is what it is like to have a child,” Jared murmured out of the corner of his mouth to Jensen.

Jensen snorted.  “Maybe for right now.  But she’ll grow soon enough and start treating _you_ like the child.  You’ll see.”

Wincing, Jared walked a little closer to Jensen.  “I am sorry Camulus berated you on my behalf.”

“Don’t be.”  Jensen waved it off dismissively.  He was quite clearly focused on something beyond their conversation, because his tone was absent as he spoke.  “It was necessary.”  He pulled Jared to a halt, eyes straight ahead on an elaborate door guarded by two men. It was with seemingly great reluctance that he tore his eyes from the door to look at Jared.  Squeezing both of Jared’s hands, Jensen took in a deep breath, “Look, it’ll just be four of us in there.  My sister is normally good at diffusing things, so just look to her if you need help, okay?  I’m sure she’ll support you.”

“And you?” Jared asked, still a bit insecure.  “You will support me as well?”

“Of course.”  Jensen smiled tightly and tucked a strand of Jared’s hair back behind his ear.  “Just follow my lead and everything will be fine.  Alright?”

Wordlessly, Jared nodded, and let Jensen draw him into the lion’s den.

Just as the Great Hall had been decked out with luxury beyond comparison, so too was the King’s private dining chamber.  The bright tapestries and thick carpets were a sharp contrast to Jensen’s rooms.  Once they had been cleaned, Jared had noticed how bare they were.  All the furniture was nice, but it was simple and plain; nothing like the king’s elaborate rooms, meant to impress his wealth and power on those that entered them.  Even though he knew he needed to remain impassive, Jared could not help but feel intimidated, not by the King himself, but by the force of his desire to showcase his power.

Jensen’s hand tightened around his and, gratefully, Jared squeezed back, just before Jensen pulled him into a bow. 

He had not even noticed the King was already seated at the head of the table because he was so occupied with the glory of the room.  But then that voice rasped out, “rise” and Jared remembered just why he had to be constantly on his guard. 

The King was at the end of the long table, sitting perfectly straight in a chair laden with more gold than any other object in the room.  His smile did not show his teeth as he gestured that Jared and Jensen should be seated.  Jensen immediately went and sat at the other end of the table, where Jared supposed his usual seat was.  Jared made to follow him, but was stopped by the King.  “If you will, Lord Jared,” King Alvard said, and gestured to a seat directly in the middle of the table, equal distance from both the prince and the king.  “I’m sure Jensen can share you for just this one night.”

Swallowing, Jared nodded, and seated himself.  He noticed that there was an empty seat across from him, where he supposed Princess Margaret would be seated when she arrived.  He took a little comfort in the fact that he would be close enough to the princess that she would be able to help him if anything went wrong.

They sat in near silence for several minutes while the servants continued to carry food in.  There were platters of rich, beautiful food that made Jared’s stomach growl with hunger; juicy pork, leg of lamb, almost golden slabs of cheese, and what was clearly freshly baked bread.  However, no one touched their food, or their wine glasses; they were clearly waiting for the arrival of the princess before beginning the meal.  Jared spent most of his time staring at his plate in front of him, wondering if it was common for the princess to be so tardy.

Finally, at a quarter past the hour, Margaret swept in, amber hair blowing back with the speed of her stride.  Her green dress swirled over the stone floors as she strode in at a fast, angry pace that reminded Jared of her brother.  Even her face was similar; familiar features locked into a stone mask.  Jared glanced once at Jensen to see him frowning.  Clearly, this was not his sister’s normal attitude.

“Father,” Margaret said brusquely, curtsying shallowly and not even waiting for her father’s permission to rise before doing so.  She pulled out the chair opposite Jared and seated herself—before any of the servants could—with a decidedly aggressive air.  The way her amber hair spun about her shoulders—loose instead of swept up in the complicated up-do most of the court ladies seemed to favor—did nothing to lessen the impression.

“Margaret,” the King said dryly, flicking his fingers at the nearly invisible servants.  They leapt to attention and began serving the food with a brisk efficiency.  “You’re late.”

“My apologies,” the princess said, eyes fixed on the plate in front of her. 

The King waited expectantly, but she seemed disinclined to say more, and his lips twitched downwards into a foreboding frown.  “That is all you have to say?  You would treat us all so disrespectfully, including the Lord Jared?”

Margaret’s eyes flickered up to glance over Jared, before returning to their prior position.  “I apologize to Lord Jared,” she said stiffly.  “I did not intend to slight him in any way.”

Alvard didn’t seem entirely content, but he relented from attempting to chastise his daughter.  “Well then.”  His eyes turned to the mound of food in front of him.  One small, weathered hand reached out, grasped his wine goblet, and lifted it in the air.  “A toast to the return of the prince and his new fiancé, Lord Jared.”

There was a murmuring of agreement from around the table.  Jared took a grateful sip of the wine and let it stain his lips red before he followed the king and prince’s lead and began to eat his food.

He had forgotten how good food could be.  Much as he had enjoyed honey cakes and Mrs. Murray’s home cooking, it was nothing compared to the food of the royal table.  Pork melted in his mouth, followed by fruits and salads so divine that he could barely stop himself from moaning in delight.  After a few minutes of eating, he caught Jensen’s eyes on him, dark with a particular emotion that was becoming increasingly familiar to Jared.  Flushing, Jared ducked his head and tried to enjoy his food less obviously.  He did not need to make Jensen aroused at the King’s own table, after all.

Once the initial frenzy of eating had settled down, the King wiped his mouth and cleared his throat.  “Tell me, Jensen.  How are the Dragon Warriors faring?”

Jensen had obviously been anticipating this question.  He straightened in his chair and looked straight at his father, like a soldier reporting to his commander.  “A couple squadrons of our troops had already been deployed to the East, _prior_ to our visit to the South, to deal with the raiding situation there.  I left orders with my second-in-command, Sir Kane, to join and aid them as they could, before returning here.”

The King hummed, although Jared could not tell if it was in approval or not.  “And how did you deal with the conflict between Lord Estriam and Lord Reichenmore?  It must have been handled quickly, to have you here so soon.”

Jensen stiffened, carefully setting his silverware on the table.  “I did not manage to talk to either of them about the matter.  The Queen Egg hatched for Jared, and I thought it was more important to head directly back here than to waste time haggling with the nobles.”

Cheeks reddening, the King’s voice was dangerously angry as he spoke.  “Waste time?  It would not have been a waste of time, Jensen!  Our Southern border is weak now, because you have left it that way!  You must fly back tomorrow and fix this.”

“But Father!” Jensen objected, clearly shocked.  “With Jared here, I can hardly just leave for the South again—”

“Yes you _can_ ,” the King snarled.  “Your fiancé will be fine here.  I will keep him under guard and your sister will keep him company.  He can help with preparations for your wedding.  You, however, will deal with the mess you have left behind!”

Clearly seeing that anger wasn’t going to work, Jensen tried reasoning with his father, tone lowering to something much more convincing.  “Father, I assure you that the South will be fine.  I was there myself, after all.  Estriam and Reichenmore may be having a few disputes, but surely it can wait until after my wedding—”

“And then you’ll want it to wait until after your honeymoon,” the King interrupted, “and after that, who knows how long?  I know how men can be right after they wed.”  He attempted to smirk suggestively, but all Jared saw was a sneer.  Jared’s fingers tightened around his dinner knife without his permission.  One plunge...  “It’ll be much harder for you to do your duties after you have sampled a taste of your wedding bed.  Do it now, and you won’t have to worry about it later once you are wed.”

Jared flushed brightly at the implication that he would somehow keep Jensen in bed and away from his duties with his body.  He saw Margaret also colored and somewhat angered, glaring discretely at her father, before returning to staring at his plate and pretending he did not exist.

Once again, Jensen tried to cajole his father.  “Please, your Majesty.  You have plenty of other men who are just as well suited as I to deal with this situation.  Send one of them instead—”

“No!”  The King was done listening to objections, apparently, because his tone was firm and demanded no answer.  “You do not understand how things are in the South, Jensen.  Things are difficult there and demand our utmost attention—”

“They are only difficult and strained because of _you_ , Father,” Margaret suddenly hissed out, and all eyes in the room swiveled to her.  She had stood when she had spoken, and her hands were fisted and shaking by her sides.  Her glaring was no longer discrete, but directed clearly at her father.  “Jensen would not have to leave his betrothed if _you_ had not started a useless war with the South in the first place,” she continued, and shook her head angrily, sending her hair flying.  “I will hear no more of this,” she said, and her tone echoed the firmness of her father’s.  “With your leave,” she added sarcastically, not even bothering to curtsy, before storming out of the room.

Mouth hanging open a little bit, Jared stared after her, along with everyone else in the room.  Finally, Jensen turned back around to look hesitantly at his father.  “Father, what…?”

The King sighed, seeming to crumple in his chair a little bit.  Jared was reminded of his first impression of the man; weak and ordinary compared to his children.  “I have no idea, my son.  She has been in a mood for the past couple of weeks, and I do not know what to do about it.  I have been lenient… but soon enough I will have to punish her if she keeps up this behavior.”

Jensen nodded thoughtfully, then said, with hope clear in his voice, “perhaps she is not a suitable companion for Jared, then?  I should stay until she has—”

“No,” the King repeated, the steel coming back into his voice.  “You will leave tomorrow morning for the south and deal with Lord Estriam and Reichenmore.  Your fiancé will survive without you, I am sure.”  With pursed lips, the King flicked his fingers in a small, annoyed gesture.  “I tire of this conversation.  You are dismissed.”

Jared was more than happy at the chance to escape.  He sketched out a quick bow before hurriedly following Jensen out of the room.

He was once again reminded of the similarity between the siblings as he followed Jensen down the halls.  Jensen’s angry stride and tensed face reminded Jared forcibly of the princess.  It was funny, he mused, that the two of them should look so alike, and yet neither of them looked like their father.  They must both take after their mother.

The thought gave Jared’s stomach a turn.  The Queen Linae was rarely spoken of in the kingdom since her sudden turn to madness.  She had once been a strong queen and capable wife to the King, until Margaret’s birth.  No one knew the details, but it was common knowledge that the queen had gone mad and was now locked up in her rooms in the palace, rarely seen by anyone but her one devoted lady-in-waiting, a woman who had grown up at her side.

Jared’s heart twisted in his chest.  For both their sakes, he hoped that Jensen did not take after his mother in that way.

It probably wasn’t proper, but Jared was not going to leave Jensen alone in his mood, especially not when he was leaving the next morning.  Nodding at the guards, he followed Jensen into his chambers, carefully shutting the door behind him.  He took comfort in seeing Jensen pace, knowing it was the man’s usual form of displaying his anger.  “Jensen,” he said softly, and the prince startled as he turned to him.  “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Jensen scoffed, crossing his arms.  “Jared.  You have just become the _fiancé_ to the prince, despite the fact that no man has ever been bonded to the Queen Dragon before.  Your bloodline is unknown to _everyone_ but me and those you lived with back home.  You are in a position of _incredible_ power, and you are an unknown.  There are those at court who would use this as a reason to strike against you—”

“I’m not _stupid_ ,” Jared cut in fiercely.  “Nor am I ignorant.  I have not survived this long by being foolhardy.  I will not go anywhere without guards, Jensen, however many of them you want.  I’ll stay in my room if that would make you more comfortable.  But if you fight your father anymore on this, then it’ll seem like I _am_ turning you against him.  And I cannot _afford_ to have him thinking that.”

Jensen held his glare for a few long moments, before letting out a long, drawn-out sigh, his shoulders hunching in as he acknowledged Jared’s words.  “You are right,” he said wearily.  “As always, it seems.  How is it you know these things so clearly?”

Tentatively, Jared smiled, stepping a bit closer.  “Obviously, I am just superior in this way.”  He took Jensen’s hands in his own.  “Just because I think you _should_ go does not mean I am eager for you to,” he whispered.  “I will not like having you gone.”

Slowly, giving Jared time to move away if he wanted to, Jensen leaned up and laid a light kiss on his dry lips.  “I will have to hurry then,” the prince said, and his voice was low and husky.  “I would not like to leave you alone for a great length of time.”  He kissed Jared gently once more before pulling back with a light sigh.  “You should go now.  If you stay too long, the guards will think I have taken advantage of you.”

“I doubt there would be much ‘taking advantage of’ at all,” Jared said saucily, and jumped back with a laugh as Jensen swatted at him.  “Alright, alright,” he acceded.  “I will go.”  He paused at the door.  “You will take care?” He asked in a softer tone, seeking reassurance.

“I will,” Jensen affirmed.  “And you?”

“I will,” Jared repeated, and let himself out of the room with a silly grin painted on his face. 

Sirona took one look at him when he entered their rooms and snorted.  “ _You look like a lovestruck goon_ ,” she said.  “ _If you’re going to look that stupid, you might as well get intercourse out of it._ ”

Jared nearly choked on his own spit as he turned bright red.  It would appear dragons did not have the same polite limitations as humans did.

It felt like Jared had just fallen asleep when he was being awoken by a hand stroking over his forehead.  He moaned in confusion, and only quieted when Jensen’s voice murmured, “shh, Jared.  It’s just me.”

“Jensen?” He slurred, barely managing to pry his eyes open.  His prince was back in his riding leathers, and the sun had barely broken over the horizon.  “What’re you…”  He could not finish his sentence, instead shifting against his pillow and nudging further into Jensen’s hand.  “Thought you were leavin’…”

Jensen’s smile was rueful.  “I am, in just a minute.  Wanted to see you before I left and give you something.”

“Present?” Jared said hopefully, batting his eyes.

Chuckling, Jensen pressed something into his hand.  “More like protection.  I trust the guards, and I’ve assigned the very best of them to you, but I want you to have a back-up.  Promise me you’ll wear this?”

“Promise,” Jared muttered, and his eyes fluttered shut as Jensen leaned down to kiss him, morning breath and all.  When he was able to pry them open again, the door was swinging shut behind the prince.

Jared curled his fingers tight about whatever it was in his hand and went back to sleep.

He let himself sleep in.  Maybe it was indulgent of him, but he had not had the chance to do so in years.  Without Jensen, he had no real purpose in the palace anyway, so he let himself drift in and out of sleep until he really could not nap any longer. 

Given the amount of sunlight flooding the room, it was only a few hours before noon.  With a groan, he rolled himself out of bed, leaving Sirona lying there, and stumbled over to his knapsack.  The seamstresses the night before had only given him the one set of clothes, which were far too fine for Jared to feel comfortable relaxing in them.  On the other hand, wandering around in his peasant clothing would only turn more of the nobility against him.  With a sigh, Jared pulled on the hose and tunic from the previous night, grimacing at the feel of the too-small clothing.

It was only once he was dressed that he remembered Jensen’s early morning visit.  Whatever the prince had given him had obviously fallen out of his hand while he had been sleeping.  Jared searched the bed before finally finding a small steel dagger pushed to the foot of the bed.

He stared at the knife, turning it over in his hands.  It was plain, meant for discretion rather than presentation.  It had been a long time since Jared had worked with any sort of weapon, but he still remembered the basics of his old knife training.  He smiled as he buckled the knife onto his belt, letting the tunic fall in such a way that it was semi-covered.

Dressed and armed, he picked Sirona up from the bed where she had been resting and walked into the adjoining sitting room.  He stumbled to a halt as soon as he saw a strange man in the room, automatically on his guard.  His hand flew to the knife on his belt. 

The man’s eyes tracked the motion with little expression.  His voice was equally bland when he said, “I see the prince gave you some sort of weaponry.  Good.  It won’t matter if your attacker has any skill, but with the element of surprise, you could do some damage.”  He offered no more explanation before gesturing with a gloved hand to a plate of food set on the table.  “A maid from the kitchen brought it by earlier.  I’ve already tested it for poison.”

Warily, Jared moved closer, sitting down on the edge of the divan.  He didn’t touch the plate.  “Who are you?”

The man smiled, and Jared realized that he could not be much older than himself.  His blond hair and blue eyes stood out against his tan face, which had few lines for a man that was obviously a soldier.  He was wearing the leathers of the palace guard, and his sword hung from his belt even at rest.  “Jake Abel,” he introduced himself, nodding his head.  “The prince assigned me to be your primary guard.”

“I see,” Jared said lightly, but did not relax. 

Abel’s eyes flickered down to the food and he smirked.  “Do you not trust me, my lord?”

Jared tilted his head to the side, and smiled without showing his teeth.  “I woke up to find a strange man in my rooms, armed and obviously trained.  Then he gives me food and tells me to eat.  Do you think I should trust him?”

A spark of admiration lit in Abel’s eyes.  He pursed his mouth, then spoke carefully.  “Most nobility,” he said, eyes meeting Jared’s squarely, “do not notice those below their own station.”  There was a question in those words, even though the man’s tone was carefully devoid of inquiry.

Jared very nearly rolled his eyes.  “Sir Abel, if I might speak bluntly,” he said, and the other man nodded, clearly surprised, “if there is anyone in this castle that has _not_ yet heard of my origins, then I will eat my tunic.  You know how I have lived for the past many years.  If I did not deign to associate with those ‘below my station’, as you put it, I would have died from starvation and loneliness.”

Nodding, Abel leaned back in the chair he was seated in.  “Well then, we are at an impasse.  You do not trust me.  There is no one in this palace that you _do_ trust, so I have no way of gaining your faith.  What would you suggest I do, my lord?”

“I don’t appreciate being tested,” Jared muttered, and Abel’s eyebrows rose expectantly.  Sighing, Jared waved at the plate of food.  “How do you feel about playing food taster for a morning?”

“If that is what my lord wishes,” Abel murmured.  If Jared had needed any more affirmation that Abel had been testing him, the extra set of utensils that he pulled out would proved it.  He carefully took two bites of each different food, one from the outer edges, and one from the middle, before chewing and swallowing.  Then he took a sip of Jared’s morning juice, stirred it, and took another.  Once Abel was satisfied that nothing was poisoned, he pushed the plate Jared’s way.  “You are safe, my lord.”

“ _Thank the heavens_ ,” Sirona whined, hopping up onto the table to snap up some pieces of meat from Jared’s plate.  “ _That little exercise in stupidity made me hungry._ ”  A piece of bacon hung from her jaws as she looked up to glare at Jared.  “ _You_ do _know I can smell poison, right?_ ”  Wincing, Jared shook his head.  Sirona let out a loud mental huff of “ _silly Rider_ ” before resuming her feast.

Jared ate much more delicately than his bonded, keeping one eye on Abel the whole time.  “So I suppose you know what I’m going to be doing today?” He asked congenially.  “Seeing as we’re going to be attached at the hip.”

With his hands linked over his knee, Abel looked more regal than Jared did.  “The goal is to get you resettled into palace life.  We’ll be meeting with the seamstresses, so they can begin working on a wardrobe for you.”  Jared groaned, not bothering to hide his distaste, and Abel barely suppressed a smile.  “After that, the princess is supposed to meet with you to begin planning for the wedding, and tutoring you in any noble airs you might have forgotten.”

“Fun,” Jared murmured, then cleared his throat and inquired.  “Is anyone ever going to teach me my way around the castle?  Because I can barely get from my room to the prince’s, and his is right next door.”

Abel raised his eyebrows.  “Well, it would certainly be… unfortunate if you got lost on your way back from visiting your fiancé.”  His words let Jared know exactly what he thought he had been doing with the prince last night.  Jared flushed, even though the assumptions were not true.  “I think you’ll find that a tour would confuse you even more.  For now, just try to memorize the way from your rooms to the Great Hall, then you can learn from there.”

Jared wrinkled his nose, but before he could complain, there was a knock on the door.  Abel immediately stood from his seated position.  Jared had not realized how much the man was relaxing until he resumed his formal posture.  Abel crossed to the door and pulled it open, before looking solemnly back at Jared.  “The seamstresses have arrived, my lord.”

Somewhere inside, Jared was sure Abel was laughing at him.  He was not even able to finish his breakfast before the swarms descended on him.

The seamstresses allowed him absolutely no contribution into his own wardrobe.  All he heard was “Prince Jensen likes this” and “Prince Jensen likes that”.  He came fairly close to asking at some point how they had gotten all their information on what Jensen liked his consorts to wear, but somehow managed to refrain.

The general gist he got was that he would be wearing a lot of rather short tunics and very tight hose.  When he asked why, they told him that they wanted to show off his ‘assets’. 

Jared was not sure when he had been transformed into a woman, but he really wanted to remind the seamstresses that Jensen’s affection was assured, what with the dragon-bonding thing.  They did not need to worry about Jared attempting to seduce him.

By the end of their session, he was worn out and covered with tiny little pin-pricks from a few over-zealous craftswomen.  He was looking forward to eating with the princess and actually talking with someone _sane_ , who did not seem to revel in his pain the way Abel did.  Maybe, he mused, Margaret could see about changing some of the designs for his clothing as well.

Therefore, he was disappointed when the food showed up from the kitchens right on time, and the princess did not.

Given the previous night, he decided that she might just be late.  He sat and waited while Abel stood attentively near the door for a full fifteen minutes, before resigning himself to the fact that the princess would not appear. 

Abel watched him sigh and begin eating, before asking, “would you like us to send someone to see if the princess has merely forgotten?”

Jared smiled wanly up at the man.  “Don’t bother,” he said, and sighed once more.  “Sit down and eat with me, Abel.  It is the least you can do.”

“You are generous, my lord,” Abel said, and Jared caught a hint of sarcasm behind that.  The other man sat stiffly opposite him, and he barely ate a third of what Jared did.  “It would appear your schedule is open, seeing as the princess has failed to appear.  Is there anything else you would like to do today?”

“Leave this room,” Jared said firmly.  “I might as well get out and let the other nobles adjust to having me around.”  He paused after that, and thought for a moment before saying, “If I could visit the stables and ride some, I think I would enjoy that most.”  Riding was one thing he knew he did well.  If he wanted the nobles to have a good impression of him, he might as well display some sort of skill.  Sword-fighting or jousting were definitely out, so that left riding.  After a few more seconds, he added, “oh, and if you could invite Captain Carlson and Mistress Alona to join us, I would be much obliged.”

Abel paused, fork halfway to his mouth.  “Are you sure?” he asked, voice even.  “You know that the nobles will look down on you for riding with commoners.”

Jared shrugged, knowing the motion looked inelegant and not caring.  “They’re going to see me as a commoner anyway.  Sure, I’ll be reinforcing that, but I’ll also being showing that I’m not letting my sudden elevation inflate my self-worth.  Besides—” he paused and smiled.  “I’m still peasant enough to care more about friendship than social niceties.”

Shaking his head, Abel acquiesced.  “It’s on your head, I suppose.”

“That it is,” Jared answered, and his hand fell down to seek comfort against Sirona’s scales.


	9. Chapter Eight

Abel brought him some old riding clothes to wear.  They were still too small, but they fit better than Jensen’s overly-embellished garments.  And, true, the leather trousers _were_ a bit tight, but not so tight that they necessitated the small noise Abel let out when Jared turned around.

“What?” Jared asked, flushing when he saw exactly where Abel was hurriedly looking away from.  He barely resisted the urge to tug his tunic down.

“Nothing,” Abel said, fully recovered from whatever shock he had had at the sight of Jared’s backside in leather.  The man was even smirking a bit.  “You should wear those for the prince sometime.  I’m sure he would enjoy that.”

“Oh, shut up!” Jared said, bending quickly to scoop Sirona up before storming out of his chambers.  Abel caught up in no time at all, which meant Jared did not end up wandering off somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.  Instead, he kept his head held high as Abel directed him through the palace, and tried not to react when passing nobility or servants stared at him.

Nevertheless, Jared was relieved when they finally exited the palace and headed for the stables.  He had become used to being outdoors most of the time, and even though it had been less than a day, the castle walls had become stifling.  He took in a deep breath of fresh air and smiled when Sirona fluttered her wings happily.  He apparently was not the only one that had been feeling constrained.

Steve and Alona were already waiting in the stables.  They both bowed when they saw him and he nearly had a fit trying to get them to stand up.  “Oh, don’t _do_ that,” he said, hurriedly pulling both of them up.  “That is just too strange.  Not long ago you were ordering me around,” he reminded Steve.

The man grimaced, and his eyes flitted to the stable-hands around them.  “Perhaps you shouldn’t say that _quite_ so loudly, my lord.  I’d like to keep my head.”

Jared rolled his eyes, but he moved away and lowered his voice.  “I’m not used to you treating me like nobility.  Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Abel sidled up to his side, eyes taking in the whole room like a good soldier.  “Perhaps we can talk more about this on the ride,” he suggested, alerting Jared to the many eavesdropping servants.  “Assuming you do still wish to ride, my lord?”

“Of course I do,” Jared huffed, and turned to observe the royal stables.  They were larger than any he had seen, even including his family’s old barns.  As Abel led him through the maze-like barns, he stopped a few times to gawk at some especially lovely stallions and mares before the guard could pull him along again.  “I was going to be a horse trainer myself, you know,” he reminded Steve when the man snickered at him for doting over a particularly beautiful mare.  “I like horses.”

“I can see that, my lord,” Steve said, and Jared grinned at the teasing tone.

With Steve relaxed, Alona seemed to let down her guard as well.  When they came to a line of stables that housed foals and their mothers, both Jared and Alona spent a fair share of time cooing over the little ones.  Eventually, Abel hurried them on with a decidedly condescending tone to his voice.  Finally, they came to the ‘royal’ part of the royal stables.

Jared had met Jensen’s horses, and had even ridden one; he had, of course, taken care of Jensen’s main horse, Impalia, who was a truly beautiful specimen.  The royal row of the stables was full of horses of such quality that they stole Jared’s breath.  Most of them were Jensen’s, Abel informed him, because the prince had a good eye for horse flesh.  A few had been gifted to his sister, and one or two were the King’s for when he deigned to ride out.  Abel informed him that, as Jensen’s fiancé, Jared could ride almost any of them.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to decide,” he murmured, stroking the nearest horse’s neck as it nickered at him.  “They’re all so wonderful.”

Abel sighed, and then strode off down the line of stables before coming to a stop in front of a particular stall.  “You should ride this one,” he said, voice loud enough to drift back to Jared.  “She’s a favorite of Jensen’s and she’s used to dragons, so she won’t mind Sirona.”

Jared followed him, and read the name beside the stall before looking inside.  “Swift,” he said, and looked inside at the grey mare with white speckles covering her rump.  She snorted at him before shaking her mane.  He grinned, stretching a hand out for her to sniff.  She snuffled at him, lipping at his palm, before realizing he had nothing for her to eat.  Losing interest, she butted her head gently against his palm until he stroked down her forehead.  “She’s a sweetheart,” Jared said.  “I’d love to ride her.”

“Excellent.”  Abel clapped his hands, and suddenly a couple of stable-hands were rushing forward.  “Ready the horse for my lord and meet us in the courtyard,” he instructed, before turning back to Jared.  “My lord.”

Jared scowled.  “What if I’d wanted to tack her up myself?”

“Then I would have informed you that nobles rarely handle their own horses,” Abel said placidly.  “And that even Sir Steve and Miss Alona are allowing the stablehands to do their job.  You would just keep them waiting.”

“Fine.”  Jared pouted as he followed Abel back into the courtyard.  “Spoil all my fun, will you?”

“You can worry about fun once you’re married to his Highness,” Abel replied darkly, abruptly reminding Jared just how much was at stake.  Interacting with the horses had made him forget just how much danger he was potentially in.  Even if the other nobles were not plotting against him, as he was an unknown who was quickly garnering power, then the King could be interested in having him killed, simply to ensure Jensen would carry on the royal line.

There had not been much talk about the fact that Jared could not bear Jensen the heirs he would need.  In fact, it had not been brought up even once, but that did not deceive Jared.  He knew it was being talked about.  If he married Jensen, the legacy of the kingdom would depend entirely on Princess Margaret’s children, and she was not yet wed.  With her recent behavior taken into account, Jared couldn’t help but think the King was already cursing his existence without even knowing his true heritage.

A hand rested lightly on his arm, and Jared jumped before looking down.  It was just Alona, small smile sitting on that pretty face.  “You looked troubled, my lord,” she said lowly.  “And I am not the only one that has noticed.”

Another gentle reminder that he was being constantly watched and evaluated.  Jared nodded shortly, flashing a close-mouthed smile at her so she knew he was not upset.  “I was just missing Jensen,” he lied, although the pang of his heart indicated that it was far truer than he had thought.

“Understandable,” she replied, removing her hand from his arm and turning to watch as their horses were brought out.  “The prince’s presence is always difficult to be without.  But I suspect it is especially hard for you.”

There was not much to say to that, so Jared simply nodded and let himself be led forward once the horses were ready.  A stable-boy offered to assist him in mounting, but Jared politely declined and swung himself into the saddle.  He heard a few whispers around as he settled himself in his seat and tried not to smirk.  He had never forgotten his training in riding, and he knew it showed.  Even Abel raised his eyebrows in surprise.

They rode out at a leisurely pace, sticking to the castle fields instead of venturing into the city.  His companions were mostly silent until Steve drew up alongside him.  The man was gazing contemplatively out at the grass and trees.  “So, you really are a noble?”

“Yes,” Jared affirmed, clenching Swift’s reins in his hands.  Sirona was seated between his legs and the pommel of the saddle, and she batted her tail against his upper leg.  “I can’t tell you any more than that, though,” he cautioned.

Steve nodded.  “I understand.  And I can see it now.  I was unsure, at first.  But you do carry yourself like a noble.”  When Jared snorted, Steve chuckled.  “I meant that in a good way, my lord.  I did not mean to insinuate—”

“I know what you meant,” Jared interrupted and shrugged, distinctly peasant-like.  “It was hard to unlearn in the first place.  Now that I am back among… these sorts of people, it seems to come back easily.”

There was a pause, and then Steve said softly, “I may be wrong.  But I believe I know who you are.  And if I am right… I do not know what you are still hiding from.  But I am sorry for your loss.”  Steve looked at him directly, and his eyes were full of sadness.  “Your family was much beloved by their tenants.  My own father worked in your family’s house for many years.  They will greatly celebrate when they learn that you are alive.”

Swallowing, Jared ducked his head under the pretense of checking on Sirona.  She did not seem alarmed, even as terror ran through him.  “ _He is loyal_ ,” she reminded him.  “ _To Jensen, and to your family, if he speaks the truth.  He will keep quiet for both._ ”

Clearing his throat, Jared raised his chin and set his jaw.  “I cannot tell you anything,” he reiterated, and then relented when Sirona nudged at his stomach.  “But I appreciate your words.”

Steve bowed his head.  “My lord,” he acknowledged, and then hesitated, before saying, “and Jared?”  Surprised, Jared turned to look at him straight on.  The man was smiling.  “You look very much like your father.”

As Jared gaped at him, the Dragon Warrior spurred his horse forward to ride alongside Alona.  It was only when he was gone that Jared was able to murmur, tears in his eyes, “Thank you.”

The King was waiting when Jared got back from his ride.

Of course, he was not in the stable yard himself.  Jared doubted he would lower himself to that.  A manservant was hovering along the edges of the yard as Jared and his company clattered back in.  Once Jared had dismounted, he rushed him.

In a flash, Abel was in front of him, blocking the man’s way.  “‘Ware,” the guard growled.  “What do you want?”

The man sniffed at Abel, as if it was below him to speak to a lowly palace guard.  “The King requests that Lord Jared join him for dinner tonight.”

Jared’s stomach felt like it had dropped out of him, but he forced himself to smile graciously as he moved around Abel.  “Tell his Majesty that I would be delighted to dine with him.  It is an honor.”

The man bowed quickly, before rising and scurrying off.  Jared watched him go, keeping his face as stone-still as he had seen Jensen’s.  It was only Abel’s touch that reminded him he had to move.  After nodding goodbye to Steve and Alona, he followed Abel back into the castle and up many winding stairs and hallways to his rooms.  It was only after he entered the room that he allowed his shoulders to slump.  He set Sirona down carefully on the floor and listened to the door fall shut behind him, Abel staying outside to guard.  “Well, now how am I going to keep from killing him?” He asked his dragon, scratching at the scales along her spine.  “Jensen and the princess were supposed to keep him from looking too closely at me.”

“ _Did you ever think he might have sent Jensen away so quickly just so he could have this sort of opportunity?_ ” Sirona asked, turning deep eyes to him.  “ _There is no one to protect you from the King now.  He can ask you anything, without anyone to intercede on your behalf._ ”

“I know,” Jared sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.  “There’s nothing I can do but try my best to convince him I’m not a threat, I suppose.”  He stood and glanced over at where his elaborate clothes from the previous night were laid out.  “And hope the seamstresses already have something ready.”  It was better to focus on that than thinking about how he would be practically alone in a room with the man he wanted to kill more than anything in the world.

Either they had already had something in his size lying around, or the seamstresses took his state of dress very seriously, because they did indeed have a set of clothes prepared for him.  Granted, they were not nearly as finely worked as Jensen’s or the King’s, but they fit him better than anything else he had worn since arriving at the palace, and that was enough to content Jared.  He pulled on the black and gold tunic, and the simple black hose.  The seamstresses only had to make a few adjustments before they seemed satisfied.

By the time they were gone, it was time to begin the walk to the King’s private dining quarters.  This time, Jared scooped Sirona up in his arms.  He had left her behind the previous night, but without Jensen, he needed her stable presence.  Abel side-eyed her when Jared exited his rooms, but Jared glared back at him defensively until the man simply began walking, allowing Jared to follow him in silence.

The path to the King’s dining quarters was a bit more familiar than the previous night.  Jared even imagined that he recalled a few of the tapestries that lined the hallways, but he was still startled when Abel came to an abrupt halt in front of a pair of guards.

The guards bowed to Jared, before one of them said to Abel, “the King requires that it just be the two of them.  And his servants, of course.”

“Of course,” Abel answered tonelessly, then turned to Jared.  His face was blank, but his eyes were wary.  “I’ll be waiting out here for you, my lord.”

Jared nodded.  “Thank you, Abel,” he said—properly, he hoped—before turning back to the doors and letting the guards pull them open for him.  He walked into the lion’s den without faltering.

The King was seated at the end of the long rectangular table, just the same as the previous evening.  This time, though, there was no Jensen to distract him.  Jared bowed, knees shaking a bit, and rose as steadily could at the King’s command.  He made to sit in the same seat he had taken the night before, but the King stopped him.  His eyes were beady as they gestured at a place seated at his right.  “Sit here beside me, Lord Jared.  We have much to talk about.”

“Of course, your Majesty,” Jared murmured, and moved closer to take the seat.  Up close, he could see all the wrinkles on the King’s face, every hair on his head.  He quickly averted his eyes, seating Sirona in the chair on his other side. 

The King’s eyes followed her.  “So, this is the dragoness we have awaited for so long now.”  His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, voice contemplative.  “Very strange that such a creature has determined so much for an entire country.”

Jared honestly did not know how to reply to that.  Instead, he simply stroked a hand down Sirona’s back and tried to control his own nervous trembling.  “Thank you for inviting me to dine with you, Sire.  It is very gracious of you.”

“Not at all.”  The King smiled, and his teeth were an ugly yellow.  “After all, you will be my son-in-law in only a little time.  My family.”

“Indeed,” Jared said neutrally, as the servants began to serve their food.  He kept his eyes focused on the table in irritation.  Of all the topics the King could have brought up, he had to pick _family_.  “Nevertheless, I am grateful for your Majesty’s attention.  You have been very kind.”

“Kind,” the King mused, his tone bizarrely playful.  “That is not a word many would use to describe me, my lord Jared.  I may be many things, but I do not delude myself that I am _kind_.”  He settled back in his chair, taking his glass of wine in hand.  “You know as well as I that I have many motives for this meeting.”

Running his tongue over his teeth, Jared prepared himself.  “I do not presume to know your Majesty’s motives for anything,” he said quietly. 

The King let out a raspy chuckle.  “You have a quick tongue, Lord Jared.  It is one of the reasons I do not doubt your supposed nobility, even though my son has refused to tell me a thing.”  He paused, and caught Jared’s eye as he raised his goblet.  Jared scrambled to do that same.  “To your marriage to my son.”

Jared tilted his glass in the King’s direction, before taking a small sip.  The wine glided over his tongue, sickeningly sweet.  He put the glass down quickly, and checked to make sure the King was eating before taking a few delicate bites himself.

“So, has my son had you, yet?” 

Jared nearly choked on his food at the King’s abrupt question.  His eyes watered a little as he struggled to swallow.  Horrified, he stared up at where the King was leering at him.  “W-what?” He stammered.

The King waved a dismissive hand.  “ _Please_ ,” he said disdainfully, “you served him as a manservant on the road with the Dragon Warriors.  I merely asking if my son took advantage of his rights to you.”

Jared stared down at his plate, cheeks flaming.  He was almost numb with shock and humiliation.  Inside his mind, Sirona was seething.  He only barely kept her from hissing at the King.  “I’m sure that’s not an appropriate question, your Majesty.”

“Are you refusing to answer me?”  King Alvard’s voice lowered to a more dangerous tone.  “Because I must tell you, Lord Jared, that is _not_ a smart decision.”

His hands clenched in his lap as he spoke.  “No, your Majesty,” Jared whispered, somehow still ashamed even though he had not really done anything.  The fact that he _was_ ashamed only served to make him angry.  The King’s blatant over-handed commands made him want to hit something, to claw at it and rip it down.  “He was not interested in using me that way.  He felt it was… unfair to me and his future wife.”

“And yet, here you are.”  Jared watched, mildly horrified, as the King sawed off a large hunk of venison and stuffed it in his mouth.  He had to look away as the King began speaking through his food.  “Despite all the odds against you, it was _you_ the Queen Egg hatched for, and _you_ that will be marrying Jensen and resuming your noble life.  Quite fortunate, isn’t it?”

Jared took in a deep, silent breath and attempted to relax.  He kept a hand firmly on Sirona’s back, trying to restrain both her temper and his own.  “Yes, indeed, your Majesty.  I am very blessed.”

The King continued chewing before saying, “it would seem so.”  He swallowed audibly and set his silverware down.  “I confess, Lord Jared, that I am not entirely pleased by the idea of a Prince Consort instead of a Queen.  It has forced me to… think over things that I might not have to otherwise.”

“I am sorry to have troubled your Majesty,” Jared murmured.  “I understand I have caused complications in things.”

“You needn’t apologize.”  The King groaned a little as he pushed his chair slightly away from the table and turned to face Jared more fully.  “The running of a kingdom never goes smoothly,” the King said in a manner that was probably meant to be soothing.  All it did was make Jared sure that something worse was coming.  Sure enough, the King continued, “but it _does_ mean that we need to discuss succession.  I need you to understand exactly what your marriage to my son will be.”

Trepidation began to rise in Jared’s gut.  He set down his own silverware; he had not been hungry anyways.  “I’m not sure I understand you, your Majesty.”

King Alvard’s smile was crooked.  Jared suspected that he meant to look benevolent, but instead he just looked cruel.  “Let me explain, my boy.”  He leaned forward, the gems on his tunic glistening.  His voice was matter-of-fact, but there was a cruel sort of joy underneath.  “Jensen _must_ have heirs.  Margaret’s marriage will be made to forge an alliance, which means that her children will have foreign blood.  The people would not be happy to see them on the throne.  Therefore, Jensen _must_ have heirs, and by a native, noble woman.”

Jared’s blood ran cold.  “But I am to marry him, your Majesty—”

Alvard waved a hand.  “And most days, he will be in your bed, I’m sure.  But you will have to share.”  Jared was struck absolutely dumb with horror and anger as the King kept talking.    Under his hand, Sirona became even more tense.  “I’ll select an appropriate lady, and have her declared the Official Royal Surrogate, or some such title.  That way the heirs will be legitimate.  All Jensen will have to do is sleep with her a few times a month, when she is fertile, and hopefully she’ll catch.”  He turned his beady eyes fully to Jared, and smiled wider, gums exposed.  “You understand this is the only way I can let you marry my son.”

Jared tried to hide his nausea, mask the horror on his face.  Sirona was screaming in his mind like a wild thing, and it was only his heavy hand on her back that was keeping her still.  He could not have imagined something like this even being brought up, but he knew the King would make it happen.  It would happen, or Jared would be eliminated. 

“I understand,” he croaked out dryly, and the skin crinkled around those beady eyes.  He scooted his chair back, unable to remain in the room an instant longer.  “If you don’t mind, your Majesty, I’m afraid I’m exhausted from the day.  I have not yet become reacquainted with court life."

“But of course.”  The King settled back in his chair, still grinning widely.  “I understand completely.  You may leave.”  Jared picked Sirona up and executed a quick bow before surging towards the door.  His hand was on the doorknob when the King said ominously, “I hope to see you soon, Lord Jared.” 

Jared nodded once and then fled.

He couldn’t even pay any attention to Abel’s concerned glances as he led Jared back to his rooms.  His hugged Sirona closer with every step, pain roiling in his chest.  Sirona was still hissing in his mind, “ _We won’t let him—Our mate would never do that to us, never—we’ll kill him, we’ll sink our teeth into his neck and gut him, watch him bleed out on the floor—Jensen would never—”_

Jensen will do what he has to, Jared thought bleakly.  When they arrived at his rooms, he walked quickly inside, closing the door firmly on Abel’s worried face and walking immediately to his bedroom.  It could be worse; the King could be thinking of killing him regardless.  Having to share Jensen, well…

“ _We won’t let him,_ ” Sirona said again, refusing to give up.  “ _I told you.  We’ll kill him.  We will, Jared._ ”

He set her down on the bedcovers, slipped out of his clothes and slid into bed.  He didn’t even think about crying; he merely shut his eyes and blocked Sirona’s ranting from his mind.  He would be fine.  If this was what he had to do to survive… well, it was surviving.


	10. Chapter Nine

The next morning, both Jared and Sirona were a little calmer.  By silent agreement, they decided not to think about the whole matter until Jensen had returned.  However, Jared still felt a little upset.  Abel seemed to pick up on this, and gently suggested that Jared visit the library and remind himself of noble custom.  Jared agreed half-heartedly while he stirred his breakfast around on his plate.  A little less than an hour later, he was following Abel to the royal library.

The libraries were dismally kept compared to the rest of the palace.  While the room was lovely, with arched ceilings and bookcases from wall to wall, even Jared could see the dust in the corners.  He doubted many nobles made use of the room.  The royal librarian even blinked in shock when Jared made his way in, before hastening into a bow. 

With the librarian’s help, Jared found the books he was looking for.  He ran his hand fondly over the covers before thanking the man and continuing deeper into the library to find a good place to sit.  Abel stuck by his side like a burr as he headed further into the stacks, only stopping when a flash of color caught his eye.

“Princess Margaret?” Jared gasped, and the princess’s head snapped up from where she was sitting at a table by the window.  Her light green dress was what had originally caught his eye, but the instant she looked up, he was caught by the tears running down her cheeks.

“Lord Jared,” she said, voice rough.  She seemed to realize quickly what he was looking at, and swiped at her cheeks angrily.  “Forgive me,” she said, eyes darting about like she wanted to escape.  “I was just reading a bit of poetry and—”

For someone raised in a court of intrigue, Margaret was not a very good liar.  Jared gestured quickly at Abel.  “Abel, do you mind waiting at the front of the library?”  When the man looked at him dubiously, Jared straightened to try to seem more authoritative.  “The princess is not a threat.  You can check the rest of the library and then wait by the only door.  I wish to speak to the princess _privately_.”

Abel frowned unhappily, but he could not disobey.  He bowed quickly and moved silently away, presumably to check the rest of the library. 

With his guard gone, Jared cautiously moved closer to sit opposite the princess.  Squeaking in his arms, Sirona demanded to be put down, so he sat her on the big table where she immediately waddled over to peer at the princess.  Margaret seemed entranced, giggling a little as she reached out to stroke Sirona’s scales.  Sniffling, she smiled at Jared.  “I have not seen a dragonling since Camulus was young.  I was barely a child myself then.”  She scratched the scales at the base of Sirona’s neck, which made Sirona rumble out something like a purr.  “And Jensen never liked to share.”

Jared ignored the pang in his chest at the idea of sharing, forcing himself to smile gently.  It was not the princess’s fault that her father had wounded him.  “Sirona likes you very much, my lady.  She says you are very beautiful.”

The princess managed to beam through her tears.  “She’s quite lovely herself.  Sirona, you say her name is?”

“Yes.”

Margaret hummed thoughtfully.  “I wonder what it means.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea,” Jared said gently.  “I had not thought about it much, to be honest.”

“I’m sure you have other things on your mind.”  When they turned to him, Margaret’s eyes were mischievous.  “My brother _is_ very handsome, after all.”

“I-I…”  Jared sputtered, flushing brightly.

“Oh, you are adorable,” she said, sounding delighted.  “You were so quiet the other night—”

“And you so angry,” Jared cut in, hoping to take some attention off of himself.  “Jensen was worried.”

With just that, the growing joy fled out of her.  She sighed, her hand falling away from Sirona’s scales.  “I knew he would be.  But I could not restrain myself.  I…”  She shook her head.  “I should not be talking about it.”

Jared edged his chair closer after a sharp look from Sirona.  “Does it have anything to do with why you were crying here today?”  When Margaret bit her lip and looked down, Jared reached out to grip her hand cautiously.  He tried to let his sincerity shine through as he spoke.  “I know what it is like to have secrets too.  Dangerous ones.  I’ve never felt as much relief as I did when I confided in your brother.”  He squeezed her hand.  “I may not be the person you _want_ to tell, but you should not keep this darkness inside of you.  You should tell someone you trust.”

Her lips pulled up into a watery smile.  “Oh, Lord Jared,” she said with a strangled laugh.  “This is _court_.  No one trusts anyone.”  Her shoulders were trembling, and a tear rolled down her cheek.  “I’ve just had confirmation of something very dreadful, that’s all.  I had hoped that it would not be the truth, but…”  She shook her head, amber ringlets flying.  “It just seems that _everything_ in my life has been a lie.”

Growing more and more concerned, Jared gripped her chin gently—completely disregarding proper protocol—and pulled her head up to look in her eyes.  “Whatever it is that is bothering you so deeply, you should tell Jensen when he returns,” he urged her.  “You say that everything seems like it is a lie, but I know that your brother’s love for you is true.  He thinks of you very fondly, and he would not want you distressed like this…”  He trailed off when he saw Margaret’s lower lip was trembling.  Contrite, he pulled back, releasing her.  “I’m sorry, am I making things worse?”

The princess let out a low sob, clearly distressed.  “I’m so sorry.  I know you are only trying to do your best.  And I wish more than _anything_ that I could tell my brother.  But I cannot.”  She shook her head once more and repeated firmly, “I simply _cannot_.”

Jared’s hand tightened around hers.  “Princess… does this problem of yours involve Jensen?”  When she froze, he knew he was right.  His heart started pounding in his chest.  “My lady,” he said urgently, pulling her hand until she looked at him once more, “if you know something that would put Jensen in danger, please tell me.  I need to know if—”  His throat clogged up.  He could tolerate being in danger himself, but he never wanted to see Jensen on the end of _anyone’s_ blade.

Margaret bit down on her lower lip, obviously wavering between two possibilities.  Her gaze flitted about, before coming back to Jared.  “We cannot speak here,” she whispered.  “Not… not in public.”

“Of course.”  Relief surged in Jared’s chest.  Whatever crisis was potentially coming, he would know.  “Where could we go?”

Once again, her eyes flickered about, before she nodded decisively.  “I know a place we can go.  It might be easier to explain there anyway.”  She paused, clearly thinking, before she proclaimed, “but you will have to leave your guard outside.”

“Of course,” Jared repeated himself, standing quickly as the princess got to her feet.  He left the books abandoned on the table as he picked Sirona up, but he caught Margaret slipping a document into the folds of her dress.  “Lead the way, your Highness.”

Her face was pale as she nodded at him, before she was gliding away.  Abel sent him a questioning look when he beckoned him to follow.  He opened his mouth to explain, but Margaret beat him to it.  “I am taking Lord Jared to meet my mother,” she said haughtily.  “Obviously, you will not be allowed to enter the room.”

Abel’s eyes widened, as did Jared’s.  “But of course, your Highness,” he said hurriedly.  “I understand perfectly.”

So that was where Margaret was taking him.  No one ventured there except the queen’s loyal handmaiden and, it would appear, her daughter.  Word was that even the King had not visited in years.

If the princess wanted privacy, she would certainly have it.

Even the hangings on the wall seemed to become drearier as they headed towards the South Tower.   The number of servants they passed lessened as well, until they passed no more. 

There were no guards outside Queen Linae’s rooms.  Jared quickly saw why when Margaret pulled a key a key on a chain out from beneath her bodice.  “Lord Jared, please follow me,” she said, unlocking the room with a deft ease and moving quickly inside.  Jared moved after her, hearing the door slam closed behind him.

The rooms were well made up, if plain.  There were no bright colors, only muted tones and simply carved furniture.  Margaret did not seem fazed by anything, not even the broken glass on the floor in the sitting room.  She simply skirted around it, and Jared dragged his eyes away in order to follow.  She finally came to a halt in the next room, and it was only when Jared entered that he realized where they were.

The Queen’s bedchamber was just as muted as the rest of the rooms.  Here, even Margaret’s hair stood out, gleaming against the dull colors.  An elderly woman in a chair by the bed looked over at them warily.  “Who have you brought with you, princess?”

“My brother’s fiancé,” she said firmly, moving a bit closer.  “I thought he should know.”

The old woman’s eyes lit on her with intensity.  “You’ve found proof then?”  She asked, almost like she had been starving for this news.

“I’ve found something,” the princess replied.  As she moved out of the way, Jared caught a glimpse of someone in the bed, light hair on dark pillows.  “Enough for me to believe what she told me.”

“Princess…” Jared said hoarsely, and it was then that Margaret finally stopped blocking his view of the bed, and the figure in it began to move.

“Who’re you?”  A voice croaked out.  Jared watched wide-eyed as Mad Queen Linae struggled in her bedclothes, hair matted around her frantic face.  Her gaze moved between all three of them.  “Who are all of you?  What are you doing in my room?  I am the Queen, you know, I’ll have my husband kill you—”

The old woman instantly leaned over her.  “It is okay, your Majesty.  Lady Margaret here just wanted to talk to you.”

The queen looked at her own daughter with no recognition, just wariness.  “What does she want to talk to me about?”  An idea seemed to come to her, because she recoiled back.  “I’m not saying a thing!” She barked out.  “I won’t be tricked into saying anything!”  She put her hands over her stomach—as if she was still pregnant, Jared realized sickly—and said, “I won’t let him get away with it!”

Margaret just stood there, staring sadly at her mother, while the old woman attempted to calm her.  It was the woman who spoke, not the princess.  “They aren’t trying to hurt anyone.  They only mean well—”

“No!” The Queen shrieked, clearly beyond reason.  She was thrashing, lashing out at the woman with nails long like knives.  “I won’t let them do it!  I won’t!”  She was still screaming even as the old woman snatched a vial from the bedside table and forced her to drink it.  Liquid spilled out of the corners of her mouth as she wailed, but her movements quickly became weak as the liquid was took effect.  It was not long until she was slumping back on her pillows, eyes wide and unseeing.

Jared couldn’t say a thing, just stood frozen in the doorway for a long minute of silence before Margaret turned her sad green eyes to him.  “Meet Jensen and I’s mother, Lord Jared.”

Now that she was still, he could see the resemblance.  She was beautiful, even with her hair matted and face so markedly affected by time.  It was clear that both Margaret and Jensen took after their mother, not their father.  He swallowed, moving slightly closer.  “I’m very sorry, your Highness,” he said quietly to Margaret.  “I’ve heard she was lovely… before…”

“Yes, before,” Margaret said, and snorted, anger settling onto her face.  Bitterly, she spat out, “I’ve thought for my whole life that it was _me_.  That _I_ was what caused her to go mad.  I lived with that.”  She fell silent, and then shook her head.  “But that was a lie.”

Jared’s eyes widened.  The whole country knew that Queen Linae had gone mad after the birth of her youngest.  But then again, everyone thought raiders had killed the Padalecki family.  How many lies were buried within the kingdom?

Margaret’s eyes were cold when they turned to him.  “This… what I’m going to tell you.  It’s…”  She took in a deep breath.  “It could destroy the kingdom.”

“I understand,” Jared breathed, and knelt in front of her.  Even Sirona was completely still, waiting anxiously for the princess’s words.  “I won’t tell anyone, your Highness.  You can trust me with this.”

“I hope you are right,” Margaret answered.  Her eyes turned back to the woman sprawled out on the bed.  “It is a very long story.  We should get comfortable.”  She whisked past him, skirts swirling over the floor as she moved into the next room.  Jared followed, and seated himself beside her on a long grey couch.  Her hands sat demurely in her lap and she looked at them as she began.  “Once upon a time,” she said, eerily echoing the fairy tales of his childhood, “there was a King and Queen of a kingdom.  And they were very happy, except for the fact that they were childless.”

“For many years in vain, they tried to conceive.  But not once did life take root in the Queen’s womb.  So they consulted with the great dragon, Alaunus, who they were told could see all things.  He told them that the King’s seed was bad, that it was him that could not create a child.”

Jared sucked in a quick breath.  The King being unable to sire children… that would have destroyed the kingdom.  He was the previous monarchs’ only child; he had no other close kin.  The nobility would have gone to war over who would rule next.  There would have been no succession, only chaos.  He himself could have been considered a candidate to become King because of the rank of his title.

As if she had read his mind, Margaret continued, “the King knew that if this knowledge was made public, the kingdom would fall apart.  If he did not have children, it would potentially be the end of Acklesland as he knew it.  So he hatched a plot.  He turned to the Captain of the Guard, a low born man who had displayed outstanding loyalty to him, saving his life on multiple occasions.  For these reasons, the King had elevated him to the highest military position he could give him and had even granted him his own lands and the title of Lord.  And so, it was this man that he let into his wife’s chambers a few times a month until her womb caught with child.”

Jeffrey Dean Morgan.  Jared had heard stories about him as a child.  The King’s right-hand man until he’d committed some unspeakable treason just a few months before the princess was born.  Nausea rolled in Jared’s stomach.  He knew where this story was heading.

“Nine months later, a prince was born to the King and Queen,” Margaret said, eyes glazed over with an emotion Jared could not decipher.  “He was a beautiful child, healthy and golden.  The King rejoiced that he would not have to worry about the kingdom’s future, and that he would not have to share his wife any longer.  He thanked the Captain of the Guard, and felt even closer to him than before, knowing how far this man would go to please him.”

Margaret took a deep breath, swallowing as tears began to rise to her eyes again.  Still, she appeared to fight them back.  “But little did the King know that in the months they’d lain together, the Queen and his Captain had fallen in love.  Behind his back, they continued to meet, unable to resist the passion they felt for each other.  For years this went on, unbeknownst to the King.  And then the Queen became pregnant again.”

“The King was not a stupid man,” Margaret said, and her face twisted up with loathing.  “He knew that the child could not be his.  When the Queen began to show, he forced her to tell him whose child it was.  She wept and pleaded for mercy for her lover, and it was only when he agreed to spare his life that she gave him the name of his Captain.  At learning his trusted Captain had betrayed him, the King flew into a rage.  Breaking his word to the Queen, he framed the Captain for plotting treason against the crown and had him executed.  The day of the execution, the pregnant Queen was forced to attend and watch her lover’s head be separated from its body.  The sight sent the Queen into madness.  By the time her daughter was born, she no longer remembered anything but her lover and her betrayal.”

A grim silence hung in the wake of Margaret’s words.  Jared was still trying to sort out all the knowledge in his mind.  If Jeffrey Dean Morgan was the father to Jensen and Margaret, then…  Jensen was not the true heir to the throne at all.  In fact, he was only noble on his mother’s side.  Jeffrey Dean had been a commoner before his ascension.  Which explained, Jared thought, nausea building in his stomach, why the King Dragon had bonded with him.  The King Dragon hatched for those with common blood, not nobles.

For a second, Jared wondered if Camulus had known and been hiding this from Jensen the whole time, but Sirona sent a lash of shock through him, and he knew Camulus could not have hidden something like that from his bonded.

Many minutes had passed before Jared rasped out, “what did you find?”  When the princess turned to look at him with wary eyes, he elaborated.  “In the library.  What did you find that convinced you.”

Silently, she pulled the piece of parchment out of her purse and handed it to Jared.  With trembling hands, he unfolded it and read:

_… On this day, March 17, 1205, the King and Queen ventured to meet with the dragon Alaunus.  They were concerned about the Queen’s inability to conceive an heir, and wished to consult with the dragon about methods to cure this.  The dragon enlightened them to a potion they could procure, and the royal physicians immediately sent to work brewing it…_

Jared stared at it, barely noticing the paper was shaking.  Margaret was staring straight ahead.  “That paper dates barely a year before my brother’s birth.  I also found the ingredients for the potion and took them to our current physician.”  She paused.  “He says it’s nothing more than a potion to ward off the plague.  It has no conceptive abilities.”

Again, there was silence.  Jared could not think of a thing to say.  Finally, Margaret broke the silence.  She turned to him with a broken smile.  “Do you feel better for knowing, Lord Jared?”

He turned from her gaze.  The fact that the princess had confided in him so trustingly made him unwilling to keep his own secret.  After all, her secret was no less dangerous than his.  He drew on Sirona for courage and, quietly, he said, “I am Jared of Padalecki.”  He heard her draw in a startled breath, but he continued ruthlessly.  “My family was not killed by marauders, but by the King’s own men, ordered to slaughter everyone in the house.  I only lived because the Prince Jensen instructed me to hide.”  He paused, then turned to look at her.  “I’ve known of the cruelty of the King for many years.”

A tear dropped down her face, but she seemed unaware of it.  “Oh, Jared,” she said, then leaned forward to embrace him.  She trembled in his arms, and he was aware that he was shaking just as badly.  “What are we going to do?”

He looked at the dull colors in the room and drew in a deep breath.  “We must tell Jensen,” he decided.  The princess was silent in his arms.  “He already knows what the King is capable of,” Jared explained, trying to make her see the necessity of this, “but he must know this.  We cannot hide it from him.  Even if it hurts him… We must be prepared in case it ever comes out.”

In his arms, Margaret nodded.  “I know.  I know we do.  I just…”  She drew back, wiping the wet tears off her cheeks.  “I don’t know how to tell him.”

Carefully, Jared laid a hand on her arm and squeezed it gently.  “We will tell him together.  You will not be alone.”

She gazed at him steadily, and then nodded.  “Together then.” 

In the days that Jensen was gone, Jared spent most of his time with the princess.  Although they avoided discussing the revelations they had treated each other to in the Queen’s rooms, it was always there, an undercurrent in their conversations.  It put a damper over the hurried wedding preparations, as well as a certain cold irony, especially when Jared thought about the King’s proposal that he share Jensen.  The past playing out once more.  Jared shuddered at the thought.

He introduced the princess to Steve and Alona, as well as Abel.  So used to scheming courtiers, Margaret seemed to delight in how free of artifice they were.  Her face lit up especially when she talked with Abel, whose dry sense of humor she appeared to enjoy.  Abel seemed to look upon her with a great deal of fondness as well.  Jared worried a little at their growing attachment, but there were bigger things to worry about.

Nearly two weeks after Jensen’s departure, Jared looked out one of the windows in his room and saw wings on the horizon.

Immediately, he jolted to his feet, startling the other four in the room.  “My lord Jared, what is it?” Abel said, before his eyes lit on the window as well.  “Oh,” he said, and Jared could hear the grin in his voice.  “The prince has returned then.”

Slowly, Jared turned to look at the princess, who had gone pale as a sheet.  The other three were completely oblivious to the changed mood in the room and were all talking excitedly about Jensen’s arrival.  Margaret turned wide eyes to Jared, and Jared simply nodded.  They would get it over with.

“Steve,” Jared said sharply, and the man jumped to attention, looking startled.  “Go greet the prince, and tell him that the princess and I await him here when he is ready.”  He turned his gaze to Alona and Abel.  “The princess and I require some time alone now.  There are things we must discuss.”

The dismissal was evident in his voice.  With a baffled look at them, Alona curtsied and exited the room, followed by the other two.  Abel sent one last glance their way before pulling the door closed behind him.

Margaret’s hands pressed together in her skirt, fiddling with the cloth anxiously.  “God, Jared, how are we going to _do_ this?  How can we just tell my brother that…”  She shook her head, momentarily lost for words.  “Even if he knows the horrors our fa—the _King_ has wrought, this will be such a shock.”

Trying to be strong, Jared took a seat beside her and gently removed one of her hands from their desperate fiddling.  Sirona hopped up on her other side and curled close.  “We will sit him down and tell him, just as you told me,” he told her firmly, making sure his voice did not shake.  We just have to be patient now, and calm.” 

They did not have to be patient long before a knock came at the door and Jensen let himself inside.  He was still in his riding leathers, cheeks brushed with red from the wind.  There was joy on his face at seeing them, but it was tempered with concern.  In hindsight, their summons had been somewhat worrying, Jared thought to himself.  Well, at least Jensen was somewhat prepared.

Even though he knew there were serious matters to be discussed, Jared could not help the warm flush that grew in his chest at the sight of Jensen.  He had missed Jensen, despite his new friends.  The memories of Jensen treating him cruelly seemed so far away when he had Jensen in front of him like this, warm and welcoming.  The way Jensen’s eyes lit on him made him heated all over.  “Jared,” he said, and Jensen made his name sound like a caress.  “And Margaret.”  His voicing of his sister’s name was equally warm, but in another way.  “I’m glad to see the two of you getting along.”

They had stood when Jensen had entered, so it was easy for Margaret to glide over and kiss her brother on the cheek.  Her smile only wavered as she said, “Jared is an absolute delight, brother.  You are very lucky.”

Jensen grinned boyishly over at Jared.  “I know I am.”  He tilted his head to the side, and beckoned Jared closer.  “Aren’t you going to welcome me back?”

Jared could not help flushing, even as he leaned in and brushed his lips over Jensen’s briefly.  “It’s good to have you back,” he said truthfully.

“It’s good to be back,” Jensen returned easily, then looked expectantly at them.  “So what is it that you two need to say?  Steve made it sound urgent.”  He paused, then frowned.  “There isn’t a problem with Father, is there?”

Next to Jared, Margaret flinched.  Jared took in a deep breath.  “In a manner of speaking, there is.”  He glanced over at the princess, only to see she had her hands fisted at her sides.  “We’d best sit down.  We have a lot to tell you.”

“Alright,” Jensen said, and the frown was still creasing his brow.  Jared guided him to the armchair, before sitting next to Margaret on the couch.  He had a feeling that she would need his support.  Jensen looked over at them, and his expression lightened slightly when he saw Sirona.  “Hey there,” he said to her, and he sounded delighted.  “You’ve grown!”

It was true.  In the weeks since her birth, Sirona’s body had lengthened, so that she was less of a pudgy baby and more of a miniature dragon.  She rumbled happily at his praise, and leapt onto the floor so that he could pet her.  He lifted her one-handed into his lap and stroked at her scales with affection.  Sirona sent waves of pleasure Jared’s direction, making him blush, even as worried as he was.

“Jensen,” Margaret started tentatively.  She glanced over at Jared for reassurance, and he nodded.  She swallowed, then licked her lips.  “Jensen, a few weeks before you came home, I…  Well, I was upset with the King, so I decided to get more involved in our mother’s care.”

Jensen’s hand froze on Sirona’s scales.  “Margaret,” he groaned.  “You know that it depresses Father for anyone to see her that way, especially us.”

Margaret’s face hardened.  “I don’t think depression is quite what he feels,” she snapped, and Jensen’s eyebrows rose in surprise.  Jared put a hand on her arm and she calmed.  “I’m sorry,” she said, then straightened.  “While I was there… I heard something.  Mother… well, she said a lot of things that didn’t make sense.  But one time, she was quite coherent, and she was saying things.  Things I didn’t understand.”

Leaning forward, Jensen was completely focused on his sister’s words.  “What was she saying, Margaret?”

Once more, the princess turned her gaze to Jared.  Daringly, he took her hand and saw Jensen take in the motion with narrowed eyes.  Jared winced as he realized how Jensen might take the show of affection, but held onto Margaret’s hand all the same.  At the moment, she needed this.  “Jensen, both of us have researched this.  What Margaret is going to tell you… there is little doubt it is true.  You must know that.”

Jensen looked at Jared, and his face was blank.  Jared hated seeing his face that way, but he knew it was Jensen’s way of preparing himself.  “I understand.  Please tell me whatever it is that is bothering you both.”

Margaret squeezed his hand once then began.  Her voice was a bit unsteady, a bit tentative, but it was there.  “Our mother… she kept going on about the King’s old Captain of the Guard.  Do you remember him?  The one who was executed for treason.  Jeffrey Dean Morgan.  She kept talking about him like… well, like they were _lovers_.  I kept digging, trying to understand why, and eventually I was able to figure everything out.”  She leaned forward in her seat, releasing Jared’s hand, and her voice grew more confident.  “The King… he’s infertile.  The dragon Alaunus told him.  He knew there _had_ to be an heir, so he had Jeffrey Dean Morgan sleep with Mother a few times, until she became pregnant.  But they fell in love during those nights, and so they kept sleeping together even after you were born.  When it became evident Mother was pregnant with me, the King figured out what had happened and had Jeffrey Dean killed.  And _that’s_ what drove Mother mad, not my birth.”

Despite her long speech, Jensen’s face was still completely blank.  Blank and pale.  Frantic, Margaret pulled out the documents they had harvested and thrust them at Jensen.  “Look!  Look Jensen, and you’ll see.  The King… he’s not our father.  He’s not… This whole thing, it’s all been a big lie!”  Still, his eyes didn’t move from where they were stuck on her face.  She faltered, pulling back.  “Jensen?”

It couldn’t be healthy for someone to be so pale.  Concerned, Jared moved from where he was seated to kneel by Jensen’s side, clutching his shoulder.  “Jensen?” He echoed, and it seemed it was his touch that finally sparked a reaction in Jensen.

“What do you want me to say?” Jensen asked tonelessly.  Jared gripped him tighter, even more worried by the lack of emotion in the prince’s voice.  “You’ve just told me that my father is not my father… that he had my _actual_ father killed.  Even more importantly, that I am not actually the heir to the throne.  I’m no more the prince than you are, Jared.”  Then he laughed, and Jared flinched at the sound.  “Actually, no.  The _Padaleckis_ were actually in _line_ for the throne, weren’t they?  So you have more right than I do.”  Jensen’s eyes were burning when he looked down at Jared, obviously not caring that he had potentially revealed Jared’s identity to Margaret.  “What do you want me to say?”

“But…”  Margaret hesitated, then surged on, “But you _do_ believe us?”

Jensen looked down at his hands and was quiet for a long moment.  “Yes,” he murmured.  “I believe you.”  There was quiet again, and then he gently dislodged Jared’s hand from his shoulder.  “I think I need to be alone for a while,” he said, in that same soft voice.  Without saying any more, he walked out of the room.

Margaret turned to Jared with wide, frightened eyes.  “What now?” she asked.

Jared had no idea.


	11. Chapter Ten

Jared couldn’t get to sleep. 

He tossed and turned in his bed, alternately too warm and too cold.  Sirona was not any help.  Even she was disgruntled and jarred from the day.  They had been snapping at each other since Jensen’s visit; eventually she had gone to sleep in the sitting room, instead of in the bed with him as usual.  Jared was at the same time happy she was gone and wishing she was back with him.

He was awake when a knock came on the door of his rooms.  Rubbing at his eyes, he wandered to the door in his bedclothes.  He opened the door a crack, and was shocked to see Jensen there, still fully dressed in his leathers.  “May I come in?” The prince asked, as polite as ever, but there was desperation in his tone.

“Of course,” Jared mumbled and moved backwards so that Jensen could enter the room.  He watched in surprise as Jensen moved into his bedchamber without any hesitation.  Jared trailed after him, blinking as his eyes re-adjusted to the dark.  “Jensen, what are you—”

All of a sudden, Jensen’s arms were around him, pushing him back against the wall.  Jared opened his mouth to question what was happening, when suddenly Jensen’s mouth was on his.  Jensen’s kisses were fraught with passion and desire.  He pinned Jared to the wall with his body and made war on his mouth.  Jared fell into it, grabbing at Jensen’s shoulders and his short hair.  His body was waking up in the most pleasant way, and this time there was no alcohol to dull his response.

Still, he could not help being confused.  When Jensen’s mouth finally left his, he managed to get out, “Jensen, what—” before Jensen was sucking love bites into his neck.  Jared moaned loudly and gave up his train of thought, simply bucking against Jensen.

He was so hard, and so hot.  He wanted Jensen closer, all over him, on him.  Even as his body screamed for more, his mind was roiling with confusion.   Jensen had seemed content to wait until their wedding night previously; what had changed his mind?  And why, after walking out on Jared and Margaret earlier, was Jensen now here, groping at him like—

Jensen’s hand snaked down to grip Jared’s ass, and Jared let out a sharp squeak of surprise.  “Jensen!” He gasped, squirming as Jensen palmed his ass through his thin bedclothes.  “I don’t—”  Jensen nuzzled closer, pushing the fabric of Jared’s shirt out of the way bite and lick at his nipples.  “S-stop,” Jared stuttered out, not sure whether he actually _wanted_ anything to stop.  He just wanted it to all make sense, that was all he wanted—

“Jared,” Jensen groaned, and his voice as all husky.  “My gorgeous, sweet mate.  Mine—”  Jensen bit down hard on the junction of his shoulder and neck, and Jared cried out, thrashing against the pain, but Jensen’s hands were like vises.  “C’mon,” Jensen rasped, licking over the bite mark.  Both hands had sunk down to cup Jared’s ass.  “Give it up to me, Jared,” he commanded.  “Let me have you.  Let me make you _mine_.”

From the way Jensen’s fingers were straying towards his hole, Jared knew exactly what he meant.  “Jensen!” he mewled, and finally managed to get his hands to try to push Jensen away.  Jensen completely ignored him, rucking his night shirt up so he could put one hand on the bare skin of Jared’s lower back.  “Please, Jensen—”  Jared was still aroused, but he was becoming more and more frightened, “Jensen, please talk to me, _please_ —”

“No talking,” Jensen growled, and kissed him again, silencing any words Jared might have.  The hand on Jared’s back slid down to push at Jared’s sleep pants, even while Jensen’s lips sucked at his.  Completely panicked, Jared struggled in Jensen’s hold, panting against his mouth. 

When one of Jensen’s hands slid down the back of his pants and brushed against his hole, Jared finally managed to get his mouth free of Jensen.  Arousal quickly fading away, he screamed, “ _Jensen!_ ”

Suddenly, it was as if Jensen could finally see him.  He dropped Jared abruptly, staggering backwards, a look of utter horror on his face.  Jared stared at him, knowing he was ruffled and mussed from Jensen’s treatment.  As if the sight of him was too much, Jensen spun around and collapsed onto Jared’s bed, covering his face with his hands.

With trembling hands, Jared smoothed his night clothes, pulling everything back into place.  He still felt so tender and exposed, as if Jensen had ripped something away from him, instead of just…  Jared shook his head.  He had to get himself together.  He had to…

There was a frantic scratching on the door that separated Jared’s bedchamber from his sitting room.  It was only then that he felt Sirona’s overwhelming panic.  “Oh god,” he muttered to himself, and moved on weak legs to open the door. 

Sirona immediately flung herself into his arms, sniffing all over his face and nuzzling him.  _“Are you alright?_ ” She asked, mental voice concerned, even though she could tell exactly how he felt.  “ _I don’t—Why did he_ do _that?  He’s your mate, he’s not supposed to—_ ”

“He didn’t hurt me,” Jared murmured to her, and glanced over at the dark shape hunched over on his bed.  Even though he was still frightened, still confused and hurt, he felt the urge to find out exactly what was going on.  Picking Sirona up in his arms, he carefully made his way over to the bed.

He kept a few feet away, shifting on unsure feet.  “Jensen?” He asked, and his voice was shaky.  Jensen didn’t move, and Jared drew in a deep breath, trying to steady himself.  “Jensen, what just—”

“I’m _sorry_ ,” Jensen croaked out, and horror crept through Jared as he saw the way Jensen’s shoulders were shaking.  He heard the soft sound he had not noticed before, and knew exactly what it meant, so he was not surprised when Jensen raised his tear-covered face to look at Jared.  “I’m so god damn _sorry_ , Jared.”

Gingerly, Jared sat down on the bed next to him, putting Sirona on his other side.  Even though they were not touching, the other man flinched away.  Jared sucked in a quick breath as his own sting of hurt ran through him.  Jensen jolted up from the bed, backing away even as he sobbed.  “I’m so sorry, Jared.  You _shouldn’t_ have to touch me, you _don’t_ have to, I _promise_ —”

“Jensen,” Jared whispered, cold and alone on his bed.  There were tears on Jensen’s face. He had not wanted Jensen to touch him, but he still could not stand those words.  Feeling like a child, Jared bit at his lower lip.  “I don’t understand, Jensen.  Please, I-I don’t understand…” 

The shaking had started up in Jared’s body again.  He tried to hide it, but it was obvious Jensen saw from the way he shrank back even more.  “I’m all fucked up,” the prince said in a low voice, the crude language yet another indicator of exactly how serious this was.  “I’m fucked up for you.  You deserve better.”

Panic started rising in Jared again, and he scrambled to his feet.  He would not let Jensen leave—he did not understand—this was not supposed to happen!  “But you’re my—”

“And I don’t fucking deserve you!” Jensen roared, making Jared cringe back.  The tears were running down Jensen’s face even faster now, and he did not even make a token effort to wipe them away.  “God, Jared!  You’re incredible—bonded to the Queen Dragon and descended from the Padaleckis, and wonderful in your own right…” There was a desperate sort of awe in Jensen’s eyes, as if he spoke of something unattainable, unreachable.  “And what am I?  I thought I was a prince; that’s not true.  I thought I was a good son; _that’s_ not true either.”  He paused, shaking his head in disgust as he spat out, “I’m not even _noble_.  I’m a _bastard_ , with a dead father and a mad mother.  I’ve got _nothing_ to offer you, nothing to give…  Why would you—”  Once again, he covered his face with his hands.

“You are the prince,” he said, trying to work things out in his mind.  He got up from the bed, wringing his hands a little.  He wanted to pace but at the same time he could not move. “And even if you weren’t, you are still bonded to the King Dragon.  You’re my mate, even ifâ€¦”  Jared shook his head, as if that would drive the thoughts out of his head.  “We’re mates, we’re supposed to deserve each other.”

“Deserve each other?” Jensen asked, sneering.  He laughed, and there was no humor in the sound.  “God, you are a living, _breathing_ example of my worst mistake.  I thought I was being a good son, a good _prince_ … Even though I thought it was wrong, I went along with _everything_ he did.  I might have argued a little, but I never really fought him.  I _never_ managed to stop him.  I just did whatever he told me, because I thought…”  Jensen choked on a sob before saying brokenly, “I thought, ‘I’m being a good son.’  A good _son_.”  That same hysterical laughter came out.  “He’s not even my god damn father!  So you know what that makes me?”  Jensen’s eyes were wide with green fire.  Jared thought he’d burn if he touched him.  “It makes me a murderer and a _coward_ ,” Jensen snarled, when Jared did not respond.  “I’m not fit to be anyone’s mate.”

Jared thought he might crack apart under the strain of their collective pain, sadness, and panic.  Desperate, he threw himself forward and clutched onto Jensen’s arms.  “Please!”  He implored as Jensen began to jerk away, and just his voice stilled the prince.  “Please,” he said more softly and moved in to cup Jensen’s face in his hands, even though his hands were still shaking and the terror within him had not quite abated.  He looked into Jensen’s eyes, and felt a tear fall down his cheek.  “You didn’t know,” he whispered, and his voice was all clogged and hoarse, but he meant it.  “Jensen, you couldn’t have known.”

“That’s not enough,” Jensen whispered back, but he came willing into Jared’s arms, wetting his nightshirt with his tears as his body was wracked with sobs.  His own face wet with tears, Jared held him through it all.

Jared woke up with a warm body wrapped around him.  His head was right next to a warm, solid chest and he could hear a steady heartbeat.  The arms around him tightened, as if they recognized that he was awake.  When Jared peered upwards, he saw that Jensen’s eyes were open, staring unseeingly forward.

Carefully, Jared squirmed upwards until he could plant a soft kiss on Jensen’s lips. When he pulled away, those green eyes were focused on him instead.  They were blank and wary, but Jared thought anything was better than the self-loathing and misery he had seen in them the night before.

He ran his hand over Jensen’s cheek, then kissed the same spot.  “What happened last night,” he murmured, and felt Jensen tense around him.  He soothed a hand down Jensen’s arm, before drawing back to look in his eyes.  “It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy you, or what you were doing.  I just didn’t understand what was going on, or the mood you were in.  That was what frightened me.  I only wanted to understand.”  When Jensen said nothing, Jared curled a hand through his hair.  “You didn’t hurt me, Jensen.  Just… startled me.”

“It wasn’t right.”  Jensen voice was husky from sleep.  His eyes turned to Jared’s neck and he winced.  Jared vaguely remembered Jensen biting him there.  He suspected that he had a lovely ring of bruises.  “What I did, Jared.  I would never… I don’t believe in forcing anyone.  And I almost did.  To you.”  He turned his head to the side, swallowing.  “I don’t understand how you can forgive me.”

Gently, Jared turned Jensen’s head back to face him.  Then, slowly, deliberately, he leaned in to kiss Jensen once more, before pulling back.  “You were hurt,” he told him, “And scared.  And confused.  I understand that.”  He laid his head back down the pillow, only a few inches from Jensen’s.  “Do you feel any better?”

Jensen shook his head minutely.  “Not really,” he admitted slowly, a tendril of pain still clear in his voice.  “I have a lot of thinking to do… I did things that I am… not at peace with, for reasons that I should not have allowed to motivate me.  I thought that family was what was important.  Family, and loyalty to the King.  I find myself questioning that now.”  He paused, a contemplative expression on his face.  “But I… no longer find myself in as much desperation as I was last night.”

“That’s good.”  Jared allowed his hands to wander over Jensen’s arms, his neck, his face.  “I did not like seeing you like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Jensen said again, and Jared kissed the apology off his lips.

They laid there for a little bit, holding each other.  Then Jared sighed.  “Is there nothing we can do?”

Jensen did not even have to ask what he was talking about.  “This damages me and my sister just as much as it does my—the King.  If this is brought out in the open, both Margaret and I will lose our titles and there will be war over succession.”  The corner of his lips pulled up and he snorted.  “You would actually probably be the closest in line, but the nobility wouldn’t accept you.”

“And I don’t want to be King,” Jared said firmly, snuggling closer.  The first inklings of an idea trickled into his mind.  “That’s your job.”

“Indeed.”  Jensen squeezed him.  “And I… I _want_ to be King, Jared.  Not for the power, but because I… I genuinely care about the people of this kingdom.  I want to be a good ruler, a good King.  I think perhaps I could be, with time.  And help.”  He smiled at Jared, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.  “I have a lot to atone for.”

“You are not to blame for the King’s decisions,” Jared said firmly, and when Jensen opened his mouth to object, Jared pressed a finger to his lips.  “Nor should you punish yourself for being unable to stop him.  There are _plenty_ of other capable men who did nothing.  My own father, however many issues he had with the King, would _never_ have attempted anything other than some strongly worded letters.  The King is the _King_.  There is not much you could have done.”

Jensen’s lips pursed in dissatisfaction.  “That just sounds like an excuse.  I could have found ways—”

“It is the _past_ ,” Jared interrupted, grabbing Jensen’s chin to hold his gaze.  “There is no use in thinking about it.  You know what you know now, and you will make different choices in the future.”

Nodding, Jensen set his jaw with determination.  “I will.  The King may reign for many more years, but I… I will do my best to make things better where I can.”

Jensen would do his best where he could, certainly.  Jared, on the other hand...  He would have to talk to Sirona later.  They might have some _business_ to attend to later.

Grinning, Jared kissed the tip of Jensen’s nose.  “I’m proud of you, your Highness,” he murmured, and got tickled for his efforts.  Tickled and then soundly kissed.  Which he was more than happy with.

Just before their kisses could deepen, a knock came on the door to Jared’s rooms.  Jared scowled in that general direction.  “I bet it is Abel.  That man.”  He glared at Jensen.  “Did you _have_ to assign me the most overzealous guard in the history of the kingdom?”

Jensen grinned as he slid out of Jared’s arms and out of bed.  The sun lit him from behind, giving him a godly light.  “We should get up, anyway.  I hear we have a wedding to prepare for.”

Jared’s heart jumped in his chest.  His wedding.  To Jensen.  The rest could wait.

“ _Lovesick_ ,” Sirona accused from where she was nested in blankets on the floor.  Jared rolled his eyes, even though he couldn’t stop smiling. 

“You’ll understand when you’re older,” he said.

Sirona stuck out her long tongue in response.

The two weeks left before the wedding were a whirlwind.  Everyone wanted a bit of Jared and Jensen’s time.  Nobility from all over the kingdom began flooding the palace, clamoring to see the prince and his betrothed.  Every day, Jared met what felt like hundreds of people and had to smile, bow, and be disgustingly polite.  His time with those he considered friends dwindled to basically nothing.  At least, he thought, he had Jensen.

And he had Mrs. Murray and Chad.  Jensen had sent for them as soon as Jared had told him about them.  They had shown up to the palace with wide, frightened eyes, but they had still come.  When they had seen Jared, they had practically thrown themselves at him.  Mrs. Murray had sobbed into Jared’s chest, and Chad slammed him on the back a couple of times and pretended like he was not a bit teary-eyed.

They had barely had any time together, what with Jared being so busy, but Jensen had been able to meet them.  Mrs. Murray had been incredibly flustered, especially when Jensen bowed to her.  Chad?  Well, he had been Chad.

After kissing Mrs. Murray’s hand, Jensen had looked up with fondness in his eyes and said, “I know what you did for Jared, when he was younger.”  Mrs. Murray had sucked in a deep breath and looked over at Jared, who grinned reassuringly.  “And I am so incredibly grateful.  Once we are wed, I will reward you fully.”

Flushed and out of her element, Mrs. Murray had merely waved her hand and said that they did not need any sort of reward, but Jared was just as determined as his betrothed to pay back the woman who had raised him and the closest thing he had to a brother.

Although he had felt less charitable after Chad had asked him whether Jensen had fucked him yet.  Blushing, he had swatted at the other man, who had only danced away grinning and asked, “is that a yes?”

Some of the other new arrivals included the Dragon Warriors.  They descended on the city en masse, dragons crowding up the skies.  Their camp was a mile or so outside of town, and Jensen and Jared rode out to visit them one day.  Eerily similar to Chad, Chris had clapped Jared on the back and said, “I knew you were his type.”  Jared had simply tried not to die in embarrassment from all the cat-calling.

He had managed to separate from Jensen long enough for he and Sirona to have a few other necessary conversations, but he tried not to think about those.  He could not, not yet.  He did not even know— 

He didn’t think about it.  Much.

Besides old friends, there were new ones as well.  Not all of the nobility were as stuck-up as Jared had remembered.  Some of the younger nobles were more than willing to give him a chance.  Jensen had a couple of friends from his childhood that rallied around Jared like soldiers.  Jared had enjoyed meeting them, and the reprieve from diplomatic greetings they represented.

The older nobility were not fond of Jared.  They did not like his obvious masculinity, or the question of his birth.  Jared liked to fantasize that they would be falling all over him once they found out, but he knew that would not always be the case.  There would always be those who doubted the truth of his lineage.  For the moment, he simply had to tolerate their snide looks and whispers.

When he was not meeting important people, Margaret was coaching him in everything pertaining to nobility.  For everything he had remembered, there were another seven things he had forgotten.  His lessons with her were agonizing and boring, but he stuck to them with determination.  He was making things difficult on Jensen with both his gender and his unclear background.  He would _not_ embarrass him in front of the nobility by acting like a peasant boy.  He would be the _perfect_ Prince Consort.  He was _determined_.

After a long day of meeting people and training, Jared would retire to back to his rooms with Jensen.  They would spend as long as they could talking, kissing, and touching before it was too late and Jensen had to return to his own room.  They could not stay the night together yet.  Not without the kind of rumors they didn’t need.

Jared just remembered that with every night, the wedding was that much closer.

The morning of the wedding, Jared woke up already sweating.  A quick glance out the window made it clear that the sun was high up in the sky already, beaming down on them at full brightness.  Jared grinned up at it for a moment.  It felt like the heavens were celebrating his marriage to Jensen as well.

“Jared!”  Someone shrieked, and he was unsurprised when he opened the door to his sitting room to find Margaret, Alona, Abel, and Lady Danneel, one of Jensen’s friends, all clustered outside with breakfast.  There was also a flurry of servants, all bustling about.  And, yes, there in the corner was Chad, looking completely out of place.

“How long have you all been out here?” He teased, running a hand through his hair.  Sirona padded out of his bedchamber and hopped up on the sofa with the girls, much to their pleasure.

“We couldn’t leave you alone to get ready on your wedding day, silly!” Margaret chirped, and waved at a couple of the servants.  “You’re going to eat breakfast with us, then you can bathe and get ready.  We’re going to make you gorgeous for your wedding night!”

Gorgeous was probably unachievable, but Jared conceded that they certainly did try.  After he bathed, the girls practically attacked him.  His wedding clothes were very fine indeed, all white and gold, with heavy emeralds hanging on his tunic.  So many precious gems were placed on him that Jared was afraid he would not be able to move.  Alona even applied light make-up to his face.  “It’ll make your eyes stand out,” she said, but at that point Jared was too nervous to even come up with a decent retort.

He was marrying Jensen.  Jensen, prince of the kingdom of Acklesland and bondmate of the King Dragon.  He was going to marry Jensen, and then later he would…  His stomach flipped as he thought about his plans.  He could potentially ruin things, but he was so, so sure… 

“ _Don’t think about it_ ,” Sirona reminded him.  “ _That’s for later.  Think about Jensen right now._ ”

Jensen.  Yes, he needed to think about Jensen, who was so incredible and handsome and loving to him.  Jensen, who continued to struggle on and off with his feeling of self-worth in the face of Margaret and Jared’s revelation, but kept constant at Jared’s side despite it.  Never once had Jared seen a reappearance of the desperate man who had cornered him in his rooms.  Sometimes Jensen was angry, sometimes sad, but he always turned to Jared, talked to him.  And Jared held him and…

Well.  Perhaps he should save those thoughts for the wedding night.

“Almost time!” Margaret proclaimed, straightening the cape they had put on him for the thousandth time.  “We’ll have to head down soon.  One of the maids just told me that Camulus and Jensen are already in the Hall.” 

Sirona perked up at that, always eager to see her mate.  Jared was equally pleased that Jensen had put his foot down and insisted that Camulus would be in the Hall at his wedding.  Camulus and Sirona would not be mated nearly as quickly, not with Sirona still so small and young, but it was nevertheless an important event for all of them.  Jensen had not let the King even think of saying no.

When the time came, Jared let himself be lead down to the Hall feeling as if he was walking on clouds.  He even felt a little woozy, as if the prospect of marrying Jensen was just too much for his body to handle.  “ _Breathe,_ ” Sirona said patiently, even though he could feel her vibrating with excitement from where she was being carried by Alona.  “ _Our mates are waiting for us_.”

With a deep breath, Jared entered the Great Hall. 

He and Jensen were being married on the dais in front of the King’s throne, the throne that Jensen would one day sit on.  Sooner rather than later, if Jared had his way—but that was for later.  For the moment, Jared let himself ascend to stand opposite Jensen and gaze at the man he was binding himself to for the rest of his life.

They were already mated, it was true, which was about as permanent as it could get, but Jared was human, and marriage felt so much more real, like it was something that could actually feasibly happen to him.  As he gazed at Jensen, it _was_ real.

Jensen’s wedding garments were nearly identical to Jared’s, but Jared barely noticed that.  Nor did he pay attention to the circlet of silver on Jensen’s head, or the light kohl someone had outlined his eyes with.  All he saw was the love and adoration in that face, and the utter beauty of it, and he thought he would not be able to live through the ceremony.

The high priest of the kingdom was there to wed them.  He spoke in special, ancient binding words used for generations and generations.  Jared had heard variations of them back in the village he had lived in with the Murrays, garbled but still meaningful.  Here, in the Great Hall, they rang out with beautiful clarity, but Jared could not pay attention.  He simply stared at Jensen, giddy grin on his face.

Finally, the priest asked Jensen, “do you, Jensen, Prince of Acklesland, Leader of the Dragon Warriors, Bonded of the King Dragon, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Jensen’s words were ringing and sure as he responded.  “I, Prince Jensen of Acklesland, do take this man, Jared of Padalecki, as my lawfully wedded husband.”

Gasps rang loud from those in attendance at the final revelation of Jared’s true heritage.  Abruptly, a cheer rose up from the crowd, and then another, and another, until they were all screaming their delight and approval.  Jared was smiling so hard it hurt, and clutching at Jensen’s hands.  He almost wished he could turn and see the King’s expression, but he could not look away from Jensen’s face.

Finally the noise died down, and the priest was able to ask, “do you, Lord Jared of Padalecki, take Prince Jensen of Acklesland to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do!” Jared burst out, too eager to say the whole thing.  Jensen laughed, loud and open.  Blushing, Jared fumbled through all the words, “I, Lord Jared of Padalecki, do take Prince Jensen of Acklesland as my lawfully wedded husband.”

“Exchange your rings,” the priest intoned, and Jared’s hands were shaking as he slid the smooth golden ring onto the fourth finger of Jensen’s left hand.  Luckily, Jensen was trembling just as much.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jared thought the old priest might be grinning as he said, “kiss and be wed!” but he really was not paying that much attention, because Jensen was kissing him.

The crowd might have been cheering.  The dragons might have been roaring.  Jared did not notice a thing other than his husband’s— _husband’s!_ —lips.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Of course, they had to stop kissing soon enough.  They were dragged out into the large garden courtyard where the wedding feast had been set up.  The King’s orchestra was playing music, and Jensen did not waste a minute before sweeping him onto the dance floor.

The giddiness wouldn’t leave Jared’s bones.  “I thought they would not let us do it,” he babbled.  “I kept thinking, they’re going to stop us.  Any minute now, something will happen and they will stop us.  But they… they did not!  We’re _married_ , Jensen!”

“Married,” Jensen repeated, and leaned in to kiss him again.  “You’re my _husband_ ,” he murmured against Jared’s lips, which only made Jared kiss him harder.

They could not spend their whole time dancing; they had to make their rounds.  A lot of Jared’s fantasies turned out to be true.  A lot of the nobility that had been hesitant around him were suddenly enthusiastic to greet him.  As Steve had said, the Padaleckis had been popular, not only amongst the people on their land, but with the nobility as well.  With just a slight change of name, Jared was welcomed with open arms.

“Padalecki,” Chris said with a shake of his head, in one of the moments in which some noble wasn’t fawning over Jared and Jensen.  “Who would’ve thought the skinny kid I picked up for Jensen would turn out to be a _Padalecki_?”

Jared laughed, tossing his head back and feeling Jensen’s gaze on his neck.  “Did I ever thank you for that, by the way?”

Chris grinned, and elbowed him discretely.  “Have your _husband_ thank me by introducing me to the lovely lady he’s talking to.”

Glancing over his shoulder, Jared saw that Jensen had been ambushed by Danneel, and chuckled a bit, before guiding Chris over. 

As the sun moved lower and lower in the sky, something in Jared began vibrating.  He had been waiting, not only for the wedding, but for _this_.  Sirona was quivering with anticipation as well.  When it was time, she tugged their mental link until he scooped her up and walked discretely away from the wedding feast.

He did not look up, trusting that Sirona was correct.  He came to stop in the rose garden in front of a reflecting pool of water, and was not surprised when another person came to a stop beside him. 

“Jared of Padalecki, then,” the King said, just as oily and facetious as ever, and his teeth flashed yellow in the moonlight.  “What a miracle that you survived what happened to your family.  It was truly an awful traged—”

“Stop,” Jared said firmly, and turned to look at the man who had murdered his family.  In the moonlight, he looked so small, so withered.  All his gaudy gems could not disguise that.  Those beady eyes peered up at him and Jared straightened his spine.  “I know as well as you do that my family were _not_ murdered by marauders.  I _know_ whose men slaughtered them, and I knew whose crest they wore.”

The King’s eyes narrowed, and his tone was sibilant as he spoke.  “I’d be careful what you go saying, _boy_.  Whatever you’re implying—”

“You had them killed,” Jared said, stopping the King’s lies before they could leave his mouth.  He let the truth ring out as spoke, soft but clear.  “My father was openly opposed to your methods and your decisions.  People liked him; they _listened_ to him.  So even though he would never have done _anything_ , you had him killed in cold blood, along with his entire family.   Well,” Jared amended with a cold smile, “his entire family except for one.  Your soldiers missed me.”

There was a cold silence before the King laughed harshly.  “Alright then.  And if I had?” He asked jovially.  “Why exactly would you bring this up?  You’re married to my son.  I can’t imagine there’s much else you can want.”

“I want you to abdicate,” Jared said clearly, and relished the words as they left his tongue.  With glee, he watched as the King’s whole face turned purple.  “I want you to give the throne to Jensen tomorrow.  Tell the kingdom that your health is failing you, and go retire to a house in the country, and _never_ let us see you again.”

“You can’t—!”  The King sputtered, little hands tightly fisted.  “Jensen will _never_ go along with this.  He is my son, he _loves_ me—”

“He’s _not_ your son,” Jared stated, and watched the King’s beady eyes open wide in shock at his second proclamation.  It was with vicious joy and triumph that he continued.  “And he knows that now.  He knows _everything_ about his mother, Alaunus, and Jeffrey Dean Morgan.  And so does Margaret.  They would be relieved to never see you again.”

“And why do you think I’m going to agree to these demands?”  The King’s voice was low, but deadly.  “I’m not going to do this just because you throw accusations in my face.”

“No, I didn’t think so,” Jared said, keeping his tone mild, even as his heart raged with battle vigor in his chest.  “No, you will abdicate because otherwise I will tell everyone _exactly_ who ordered the massacre of my family.  You can imagine how the nobility might react.  After all, if you murdered one family of nobles, you might just kill any of them.”

Jared could see the King growing increasingly desperate, thrashing even as the trap closed around him.  “And why would they believe you?  Why would _anyone_ believe you?”

“ _Because of us_ ,” Sirona said, and behind her voice rang the voice of every other dragon in the city.  Each one of the Dragon Warriors, every foreign dragon, each shouted out a deadly toll against the King.  Jared and Sirona had spread the word—starting with their visit to the Dragon Warriors’ camp and then through acquaintances and foreign dignitaries.  The dragons had heard and  each of them had answered the call.  “ _The dragons will stand for your rule no longer,_ ” Sirona continued.  “ _You will leave your throne and hide yourself away, or you will die_.”

“Do you understand?” Jared said softly, threateningly.  “This is checkmate.  There is no way out for you.  You will do what I say, or the dragons will turn on you and rip your flesh from your bones.”  He paused, then hissed, “you are lucky I am giving you the option of living at _all_.  _Do you understand_?”

Jared watched as everything about the man crumbled, his fury, his power, his everything.  Those little hands uncurled and that head sagged.  “Yes,” the man finally said, and he was King no more.

Jared walked away without another word.  When he reached the courtyard, Jensen welcomed him back with open arms.

Jared could barely keep his hands off Jensen as they slammed the door behind them and entered Jensen’s rooms.

They were already lip-locked, had been kissing since they had finished climbing the stairs.  All their fancy wedding clothing was ruffled and out of place, but neither of them could seem to get coordinated enough to remove it.  Jared just clung to Jensen’s tunic while Jensen pulled him through his rooms.  After all, how was he supposed to concentrate when Jensen was kissing him like that, all tongue and heat and need? 

It was only through Jensen’s coordination and his grace that they managed to even make it to the bed.  They were still kissing until Jensen shoved him down onto the silken sheets and clambered in after him.  For a while, all they could do was kiss and grind and muss the bedcovers, until Jensen had apparently finally had enough. 

“Off,” he growled, and tugged at Jared’s clothes like he would rip them if he could.  Jared fully agreed, because being deprived of the sight and feel of Jensen’s skin was _killing_ him.  He scratched at Jensen’s velvet tunic and snarled at being denied, only to sigh happily when Jensen pulled the damned thing off himself, then did the same with Jared’s.  All their expensive, gaudy clothing was thrown recklessly from the bed, until finally they were nude in front of each other once more.

“I’d forgotten,” Jensen murmured, trailing his fingers over Jared’s skin.  “I’d forgotten how beautiful you are.”

Jared flushed at the words, and reached up to pull Jensen down to lay over him.  “Your Highness has a silver tongue,” he teased, rolling his hips up so that his cock brushed against Jensen’s in the most obscene way.  “Haven’t you noticed that I’m already nude?  You don’t need to charm your way under my skirts.”

“No,” Jensen mused, and ran his hand down Jared’s chest to toy with a nipple there.  Jared’s back arched and Jensen leaned down to lick a stripe over the abused flesh.  “No, I don’t,” Jensen breathed against his skin, and then a hand encircled Jared’s length.  “And I never did, did I?  You would’ve given it up for me that first day.”

“Yessss,” Jared hissed, bucking as Jensen stroked him, fighting to get a hand down to touch Jensen.  “Wanted you so much—would’ve—”

“Shhhh, I know,” Jensen whispered, and then pulled Jared’s legs up to sit over his shoulders.  “And I know something else special about you too.”  His fingers left Jared’s cock and trailed down to circle over Jared’s hole, rubbing it once, twice.  “I know you’re going to give this up for me, kept all virgin for your husband on your wedding night.  Isn’t that right?”

Jared nodded weakly, nearly panting as Jensen coated his fingers with slick from a nearby jar.  One of the chambermaids had probably left it there for them that morning.  “Just for you,” he promised, and they both knew he meant it.  “Never anyone before, never anyone after.  Just you.  My Jensen.” 

“Yours,” Jensen affirmed, before slipping a finger inside of him. 

It was strange feeling, that was true, but Jared had been warned about that.  He breathed through it, instead watching Jensen’s face as he pushed a second finger in.  He was not even touching Jensen, and yet the man seemed so aroused, his cock leaking precome simply because his fingers were in Jared’s ass.  Because _he_ was going to be in Jared.

“Jensen,” he whined, as the man scissored his fingers around, brow furrowed as he searched for something—

“ _Jensen_!”  Jared screamed, his back arching and legs clamping around Jensen’s shoulders as he surged back against the fingers inside of him.  Whatever they had touched, whatever he had felt, was like liquid fire and he just wanted more, and more, and more, and _more_ —

Jensen seemed pleased to give it to him, caressing that spot inside of Jared until he was a crying, shaking mess.  He was so aroused he could not breathe right; all he could do was cling to Jensen and hope that at some point he would give Jared what he wanted.

Finally, those fingers were removed, and Jared sobbed at being suddenly empty, immediately grabbing onto Jensen and trying to pull him back.  “Shhh, shh,” Jensen repeated, crawling over him, and soothing him as best he could.  “I’m going to take care of you.  We’re going to—we’re going to do this.  Together.”

It was only then that Jared felt a nudging against his hole, and opened his legs wider as he understood.  This was finally it.  Jensen was going to take him and make him _whole_ for the first time.

And as Jensen pushed in, it did feel like that.  Like being whole.

When Jensen was all the way inside of him, they paused, just staring into each other’s eyes.  Jared’s hands were trembling a bit as he cupped Jensen’s face, drawing him in for a sweet, soft kiss.  “I can feel you,” he whispered, and felt Jensen shiver at the words.

“I can feel you too,” Jensen echoed back, and Jared clenched around him, eliciting a moan from them both.  Jared knew there would be no more talking as Jensen reared back and began to _thrust_.

There was something fierce and tender about the way that Jensen took him, the way he cradled him close and pushed him to his limits.  Jared cried out with every thrust, with his need to come, but Jensen held him and made him wait.  Made him take it.  Jensen knew best.  Jensen knew what he could do.  Jensen would take care of him.

“Jared,” Jensen panted, and just the sound of his name made Jared’s whole body ripple with pleasure.  He was so full and hot on the inside, and Jensen’s words only stoked the flames.  “ _Jared_ ,” Jensen growled, and then a hand was on Jared’s cock, bringing him to completion.

Jared howled as he came, writhing in the sheets like a wild thing.  Above him, he was barely aware of Jensen reaching his own end until he felt come painting his insides.  Feeling that only made him come that much harder.

They both clung to each other in the afterglow, damp with sweat and panting.  They had somehow ended up stretched out in the wrong direction on the bed, but neither of them cared to move, not when it was so perfect where they were.  Jared pressed closer, listening to Jensen’s heartbeat and smiling.  That heart was his.  It beat for him.  They were married and they were mates and every bit of Jensen was _his_. 

And every bit of him was Jensen’s.

Eventually, he became aware of Jensen petting his hair, running it through his fingers.  Jared pressed into the caress.  If he were a cat, he would have purred from satisfaction.  Jensen had promised to take care of him, and he had done an admirable job.

“I’m so fortunate,” Jensen murmured as his hands tugged on a lock of Jared’s hair.  “I thought I knew who I was, what I was, who I wanted to be… And then I met you.”  He paused to press a light kiss to Jared’s forehead.  “I don’t know how you did it.  But you just…”  Seemingly losing his words, Jensen shook his head against the sheets.  “There’s never been anyone like you.”

“Nor like you,” Jared reminded him softly, kissing under his chin and along his jaw.  “Everything you say I’ve done for you, you’ve done for me.  Without you…” he trailed off.  He would have lived in the village his whole life, breeding and caring for horses.  He would have been a passable kind of happy, although he would probably have married a woman he did not really love.  He would have lived a decent life, he was sure, but it would be nothing like the one he was living with Jensen.  “We’re better together,” he said definitively, before crawling up to kiss Jensen full on the lips.

Compared to the fierce kisses of before, this kiss seemed tame, but it still made Jared’s body weak and had him yearn to be completely subject to Jensen’s will.  Someday, Jared thought, he would let Jensen _really_ take him, rough and without any holding back.  His chest flushed at the thought.

That would be for a different day.  For now, Jensen merely pulled away to smile softly at Jared, before reaching up to run warm fingers over his cheek.  “You’re going to be an excellent prince,” he said, and ran his thumb over Jared’s lips.  “I can already tell.”

“Well, you’re going to be an excellent king,” Jared retorted playfully, although he meant every word.  He let Jensen chuckle and pull him close like it was just a joke, even though his heart was bursting in his chest.

“Someday,” Jensen said, and nuzzled closer to hide his face in Jared’s neck.

Through the drapes covering the windows, Jared would be able to see the sun when it rose.  He stared at the dark sky and waited for dawn.

Someday was coming _very_ soon, after all.

_FINIS_


End file.
